It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan
by fanfictioniwrite
Summary: "How does it feel to be quirkless, Kacchan?" / Deku followed Bakugou's advice and took a swan dive off the roof. Five years later they meet again and Izuku has a peculiar quirk that happens to be the hero's greatest weakness. (Alternate Universe: Villain!Deku, Bakudeku).
1. Long Time No See

**It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan**

 **Summary:** Deku followed Bakugou's advice and took a swan dive off the roof. Five years later they meet again and Izuku has a peculiar quirk that happens to be the hero's greatest weakness. (AU: Villain!Deku, Bakudeku).

 **Author's Note** : Hey, everyone! Yes, I know – another Villain!Deku story… but I just couldn't resist.

There will be a number of deviations from canon, which will be revealed throughout the story. The main difference is Deku never got One for All but he does have a quirk, how and why will be explained.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Long Time No See**

Bakugou stares at the eyes of the villain, unable to believe the sight before him. There he is: the weak, quirkless loser he once took pleasure in tormenting until he drove him off the edge of a building.

The boy he thought long dead now standing inches away from him,

"Kacchan?"

The half-forgotten nickname does something funny to his heart.

He shakes his head frantically, refusing to believe the reality before him. Surely this is another nightmare, his own perverted imagination working overtime, trying to punish him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Deku's lips stretch into a smirk, the small gesture clashing horribly with the haunted look on his face.

Bakugou bites his lip, still refusing to give into the illusion.

"I have." he mutters in the end, voice sounding foreign to his own ears.

There's a smack on his shoulder and he winces at it but more so at the cold, bony fingers that dig in.

Izuku leans in close and he has to avert his gaze so he doesn't sink into uncharted territory. Fluffy green curls tickle his neck as Deku's hot breath dances over exposed skin.

Katsuki looks away, taking in his surrounding as panic starts to crawl its way into his heart. Where the hell is he?

Slim fingers drum over his chin, as though to catch his attention,

"I'm so glad you're back!" Deku beams and for one short moment it's like they're four again and their entire life lies before them, rich with possibilities like the blue sky on a hot summer morning.

Then the grin is gone, morphing into a smirk that tethers on the side of something dark and _wrong_.

A small voice in his head, one that sounds oddly like his younger self tells him this isn't the boy he once knew.

"We'll have _so_ much fun, Kacchan."

(Did he ever bother to know him at all?)

 **xxx**

 _(Past)_

At age fourteen Bakugou is nothing short of a natural disaster masquerading as a teenage boy.

There's power at the tips of his fingers and he makes sure the entire world knows it, all in the name of silencing his own demons.

Most people bow before him, cower in the shadow of his supposed greatness and settle for the comfortable position of his followers.

Then there's Deku.

A boy who was his friend once – a lifetime ago. Before they discover quirks and what they really mean, how divided society is because of them. A hero and a civilian – it seems as though the choice is already made for them.

Izuku refuses to learn his new place which according to Katsuki is nowhere. Despite being scrawny, weak and quirkless he still smiles and dreams and _hopes_ and it pisses Bakugou off to no end.

He wants to trample over Izuku's strength and beat the smile off his pale face. Because… if a little loser like him can be so strong without any power behind his hands – who knows what he'll be like if he had one?

"Deku, you quirkless fucking piece of shit!" he screams at the boy one day, his fury exploding at the mere sight of his classmate, "When will you learn you'll never be a hero?"

Years later he doesn't even remember what provoked him, what little spark in those green eyes was the reason for him to ignite. (Did it have something to do with applying to UA?)

"K-kachan," Izuku stammers, holding his palms above his head, as if to defend himself, like a caged animal before its captor, "D-don't say that even without a quirk, I can-"

Everything about the boy infuriates Katsuki and the words leave his mouth on their own accord,

"If you want a quirk so badly, then you should just take a swan dive off the roof, and hope to get one in your next life!"

Time stalls and all he can see is the o-shape Izuku's plump, chapped lips make. He takes a step back, as though badly burnt.

Bakugou feels a sliver of bitterness somewhere deep in his chest but brushes it away, like a tiny speck of dust. Pleasure sprouts like a weed in his heart and he feels something sick and wrong yet delicious at the same time as he takes in the broken look flashing through wide green yes.

The expression on Deku's face remains sealed in his mind and it makes him lick his lips, thinking,

 _"_ _Good, you finally get it, you're useless. Don't you dare follow_ _ **my**_ _path."_

(You might just beat me at it).

He turns on his heel and leaves, slamming the door of the empty classroom behind himself.

There's an odd sense of closure to the small gesture.

 **xxx**

His two loyal followers – never friends as friends stand for equals – dash after him and he can sense their unease trail behind like a bad smell.

"What!?" he snaps, annoyed at the worried looks on their chubby faces.

The school hallway is quiet and still, reeking of sweat and rules. In his memories it seems more like a figment of a dream than a real place – oppressive and suffocating, making him itch to run and never come back. He's about to leave when the two boys dare answer,

"You went too far, man!" one of them shakes his head, eyes round and glazed with fear.

The other nods, "I mean… you _are_ childhood friends after all."

Anger sparks once more in his chest and travels up, "Who the fuck told you I was ever his friend?"

(Years later, as the memory plays on repeat he has to wonder if perhaps Izuku heard those words too and that pushed him another step closer towards the edge).

The silence in the small space between them is deafening as his classmates refuse to meet his gaze. He snickers, feeling equal parts disgust and boredom for those near him.

Small minds, purposeless extras to follow – that's all they are.

"Whatever," he grunts, more to himself, "Not like I fucking care."

And he _doesn't._ The most horrifying, disgusting part of the story – the one that haunts him the most late at night is how there isn't even a sliver of regret, not an ounce of care in his heart that day.

(That's why he thinks he should be the one among the League Villains, not the other way around.)

 **xxx**

Katsuki forgets about it, sharp words slipping past his mind, meshed in with all the other vitriol he spews at the world.

He goes on with his day, with his life completely unfazed.

Deku is nothing more than a little pebble along the way, one he has kicked far away, until it dropped in the lake and sunk all the way to the bottom.

(Just like whatever emotions the boy once evoked from him).

 **xxx**

Bakugou thinks little of the crowd surrounding their school or the ominous yellow tape tangled around the building. He rolls his eyes at some of his classmates' glossy eyes and red noses, muttering about,

"Stupid fucking cry-babies" under his breath.

It's the principal's voice that finally manages to tear him away from his own thoughts and catch his attention.

"Midoriya Izuku won't be attending anymore," he informs them, tone flat and cold, bearing more finality than Katsuki can fathom at age of fourteen, when everything seems infinite.

"So the fucking nerd chose to quit!" Bakugou snorts while the entire class turns to glare at him, as though he's committed a crime.

It's the first time in his life he feels reprimanded and unwelcomed and to his surprise he finds himself itching to make it go away.

The principal doesn't seem to hear his words, unmoving grey eyes focused on something far away. Suddenly there's a slippery feeling at the back of Katsuki's head, his fingers clammy around his pen.

"I am terribly sorry to tell you, but your classmate Izuku has committed suicide."

Katsuki isn't sure how to describe the effect the words have on him, even years later. It's as though the ceiling has come falling down, his carefully built world shattered to pieces.

He expects rage or sadness or _anything_ really, any emotion to come to the surface and rear its ugly head at him.

None of it happens, he's left numb in the empty classroom, staring at the blank white board before him.

He remembers the weather for some reason –bright and sunny, warm light filtering through the windows and bathing the classroom in a melange of orange hues. He doesn't get up to leave when his classmates do, rather remains there and just stares, waiting for Deku to come back and tell him this isn't his fault after all.

 **xxx**

"Katsuki?"

The name sounds kinder than he deserves and he doesn't have to turn to sense the aura of worry around his mother.

Somehow she looks softer, as though all her sharp edges have been erased.

Mitsuki doesn't utter another word, just takes in his silence, squatting down next to him. He nearly winces at her closeness but steels himself not to. He doesn't meet her eyes.

"The school called," her voice trails away and he can feel a wandering hand above behind his back, "They told me…what happened."

Any other day he'd lash out, throw insult after insult, only to be met with the same. It's how the two of them work after all, just not today.

(Vaguely he has to wonder – what would his mum think of him if she knew? And rather – what would she think of herself to raise a little monster? He can't do it to her, he's ruined enough).

Bakugou doesn't dare look at his mum's face but can sense the hurt she emits, heavily mixed in with concern he hasn't earned.

It's then that another image flashes through his brain: Inko.

Finally he feels something, the previous numbness exploding, morphing into a sharp emotion he has no name for. There's a sob on his lips before he can stop himself.

"Oh, Katsuki!" his mother sounds urgent, like the time she set the kitchen on fire after a recipe gone wrong.

She's frantic and a little helpless, as though Bakugou is burning and she has no idea what to do.

He clasps his hand around his mouth so hard he can taste blood and yet the sobs still make their way past his lips.

"Shshsh," Mitsuki makes a strange sound of comfort, one he hasn't heard since he was a little kid, "I'm so, so sorry, Katsuki."

Two warm arms wrap around him and despite himself he lets the tears ruin her shirt, clinging onto her frame.

"I know you cared about Izuku, even if you never showed it."

The sudden realization downs on him: His parents don't know what he's done.

Neither does Inko. Nor will she.

To them he remains the chubby kid from kindergarten whose confidence was annoying at its worst but never something dangerous, never something that brought pain and destruction to those around.

His mother rubs lazy circles on his back and whispers words that sound clumsy and disconnected but sincere. Something wet trails over his uniform and it's then he realizes she's crying too.

"Mum…I'm sorry,"

It never occurred to him who Izuku was, what space he held in the hearts of those around him.

All Bakugou ever thought about was himself, the nuisance Deku was to him, never once stopping to think how much he mattered to Inko or his own mother. Mitsuki had held Inko's hand when her husband left and now… now she has to do the same, except this time her son is never coming back.

"He's at a better place now," she tells him, anything to soothe, to comfort.

All Katsuki can think is a simple, fatal,

 _"_ _Because of me,"_

 **xxx**

 _(Present)_

Next time Katsuki opens his eyes the red light of the sunset peaks from the small window frame and bathes the room in a palette of impending trouble.

He tries to free his hands but the only effect his attempts produce is his skin rubbing against metal until bloods starts to trickle down his fingers – hot and sticky like guilt.

Patience has never been his virtue and soon enough the anger simmering in his chest boils over,

"Fucking hell!" he screams, trashing in his restraints until he finds himself on the floor with a loud thud that echoes through the room. His face is met by the cold cement and all he can do it bite his tongue and scream profanities at the monotone walls of the cell.

The more rational part of him – the one that sounds an awful lot like his mentor– tells him to stop. He must calm down and think his way out of the situation before it escalates. What he can't do with his fists should be an easy task for his brain to complete.

Katsuki closes his eyes and takes a long breath – like Aizawa taught him – hoping it'll slow down the current of erratic thoughts so he can focus.

Blazing red eyes trail over his surroundings, taking in each detail. He finds nothing to go by, no trace to indicate his location. A plain cell, dull grey walls, no furniture safe for the toilet on the opposite end of the room. It reminds him of a prison, a place no hero should be held at.

At the back of his mind he realizes he's been abducted by the League Villains – _again_. Really, who does that?

The question that his mind begs to ask but he silences it anyway being: Is he really that suited to be a villain?

Does he even deserve another recue, another sacrifice on behalf of others for someone like him? After all he's done – what's the point of being saved?

"Screw all this," he grunts, forcing his eyes shut as he struggles to deal with the storm of emotions in his chest.

A small chuckle meets his words and he doesn't have to look up to know the man that stands above him. It sends shivers down his spine and suddenly he wishes he never woke up,

"So you still like to swear a lot, huh Kacchan?" Deku grins at him, setting a tray full of food on the floor next to him after unlocking the door a little too clumsily.

He hums quietly, drumming pale, skinny fingers over dirty concrete,

"Mmm, seems like you haven't changed all that much."

 _"_ _Can't say the same about you,"_ Bakugou snorts but the words never make it to his lips. It's because of him Izuku's entire life was flipped upside down to the point of him questioning his very being and taking a leap of faith off the school's rooftop.

"Didn't know the League Villains offered fucking room service these days," he barks, like a dog who's been denied a threat.

Midoriya flashes him a grin and it's the first time he takes it upon him to study the man.

Deku looks the same way he did five years ago yet at the same time completely different. How that's possible is beyond Katsuki's vivid imagination. He's taller naturally but still much shorter than him and on the skinny side. His face appears the same – all freckled cheeks and plump lips, soft edges that remind him more of a character in a fantasy than someone real.

Then there's a scar, right over his right eye. The lines of it are jagged, the skin a peculiar mix of pale pinks and angry reds. Vaguely Bakugou realizes that's the place his skull must have cracked when he hit the ground. The very thought of it makes him dizzy with guilt and regret so he chooses to bottle it all down.

Deku's hair is the same except it runs longer and wilder, mossy curls sticking out in all directions.

There's something inherently different, he just can't place his finger on it. It's not only the scar that mars his face.

Bakugou licks his lips, trying to find what it is, as though solving a game of "Spot the differences" in a magazine. It finally clicks –Deku's eyes are nothing like before.

Not the colour – it's still the same canvas of forest green, little specks of turquoise and gold here and there. Rather the expression –dull and lifeless, nothing left the previous excitement. There's a tint of sadness and exhaustion, clashing badly against the evident wish for revenge.

"Ah," Izuku picks a French fry from the tray, dips it in ketchup and puts it over his lips, "Well, you are after all a special guest of the League."

Fear curls its fingers around Katsuki's heart and squeezes,

"What the hell do you mean by that!?" he demands, forcing his voice to be levelled even as it rises unnaturally at the end.

Deku shrugs, the gesture almost innocent,

"Mm, we like to make the new recruits comfortable for the time being,"

Bakugou can't help the laughter that ignites somewhere deep in his chest and travels up to his lips,

"Doesn't your shitty boss get it?" he grunts, "I'll rather die than be a villain!"

Midoriya meets his eyes, green clashing over crimson. Katsuki struggles to look away but finds himself compelled, as though a strange force binds him to the other.

"Oh," Izuku's lips make a small o-shape, then stretch into a smile, one that appears sharp and _wrong_ , "You're scared, Kacchan."

The nickname sends bells ringing in his ears, loud and clear even in the midst of his messy thoughts. A once soft pet name now sounds different and tainted. The fear is so strong in his chest it blinds him and so he goes to the only exit he knows from it– anger.

"Bullshit!" he screams, rattling in his shackles like a caged animal. He trashes and trashes until the pain in his wrists is so bad he has to stop, "I'll fucking kill you, all of you!"

Deku's eyes widen and something ignites in them, a speck of the former zest for life returning.

Laughter echoes through the cell as he starts clapping.

"See!" he exclaims, jumping next to him, so close they might as well be kissing, "See!? That's what I'm talking about!"

Katsuki's anger dissipates into the stale air of the room and he's left with is fear, dipped in with confusion. Deku appears to read his emotions with ease,

 _"_ _Killing us?"_ he probes further, lips pulled into a sly smirk, "Mmm, that's not heroic, is it Kacchan?"

"Shut up!" the scream tears through the atmosphere but doesn't appear to affect Izuku who merely shakes his head.

"Mm, we aren't all that different, Kacchan," he muses, stretching out a hand and offering him a French fry.

The blonde turns away, refusing to be fed like an animal. Deku shakes his head, a tint of affection mixed in with nostalgia lacing the gesture,

"Still as stubborn as ever, I see."

He gets up then, taking the tray with him. His hand is already at the door when Bakugou finds his voice again, finally able to break away from the strange trance-like feeling he had when the other was close.

Midoriya plays with a stray curl, lips curling into something sad and wrong,

 _"How does it feel to be quirkless, Kacchan?"_

Bakugou wants to scream. Scream and trash and _destroy_ at the sheer irony in Deku's voice.

Problem is, he's powerless and all he can do is bark back,

"I already told you – you can all go fuck yourselves, I'm not becoming a villain."

Izuku turns around so fast the movement appears distorted. He smiles and it's the closest to the real thing he's seen so far,

"Yeah, you did," he agrees, offering a small pensive nod, as though running an analysis inside his head, "But back then _I_ wasn't here, Kacchan."

Something cold wraps around his neck and he nearly chokes on the feeling. He can sense the threat, looming from the edges of the words. This doesn't even sound like the Izuku he knows, rather someone else entirely. Or is he just repeating the words of Shigaraki?

"What difference does it make?" he demands, tone angry and smug, even as he trembles.

Deku winks at him, the gesture out of place with the remains of innocence on his face, as though it's rehearsed,

"A world of difference," he tells him, "I promise you Kacchan, the things I'll make you feel…by the time I'm done you'll be the one calling yourself a villain."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So! Here is the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it.

English isn't my mother tongue, so I apologize for any linguistic or grammatical mistakes.

What do you think so far? Any guesses on what Izuku's quirk might be? There were some very subtle hints here and there but more information about that in the next chapters!

Do you think Katsuki can pull Izuku away from the dark path? And is the other going to accept an apology?

Please share your thoughts, I love hearing from other fans of MHA!


	2. Roles Reversed

**It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan**

 **Summary:** Deku followed Bakugou's advice and took a swan dive off the roof. Five years later they meet again and Izuku has a peculiar quirk that happens to be the hero's greatest weakness. (AU: Villain!Deku, Bakudeku)

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Roles Reversed**

Whatever little patience Bakugou has dissipates. He can't fall asleep as his mind works over time, drawing scenarios in broad strokes and dark colours.

He's always prided himself on relying on strength as much as he does on intelligence. Problem is, no matter how hard he tries, his brain can't come up with a solution.

"Fucking hell,"

Droplets of water trickle down the sink in the opposite end of the room and the fact he needs to pee makes it all the worse but he still ignores the urge and distract himself.

Katsuki attempts counting dead villains, recites half a dozen recipes in his mind but time doesn't pass. In the end, after what feels like ages the sun creeps up the horizon, bathing the room in soft pinks.

He presses his palms together, desperate to use his quirk, only for it to produce no effect. His bicep throbs and vaguely he realizes in between the myriad of blues and purples there's a small mark of a syringe.

"Those pieces of shits must have deactivated my quirk somehow," he notes and for a small eternity the possibility of being _quirkless_ downs on him like the scenario of a horror movie.

(He _knows_ about the serum that deactivates quirks. He knows it only lasts six months…It doesn't stop him for wanting to scream and punch and maybe even cry because _what is he even without his quirk_?)

"It's poetic, don't you think?"

A wave of shock washes over him as he takes in the small figure leaning in against the bars of his cell.

"Fucking Deku, get me the hell out of here!" the scream leaves his lips before he can think it through, "Or else…"

Izuku grins at him, the formerly innocent smile morphed into something devilishly annoying that clashes against the image he has of the boy in his head.

"Or what?" he demands, squinting his eyes until they're two green slits. His fingers curl around the bars of the cell, as if to tease,

"You know…this was a prison once, a long time ago…"

Katsuki's mind latches onto the piece of information, desperate to know more. Midoriya appears lost in thought, seemingly unaware of the hope he's just planted in his chest.

"It's funny…don't you think?" he asks out of the blue, leaning in further against the bars, until they dig into the pale skin of his cheeks and leave red marks, "This place used to hold villains…but now we have a real hero here!"

There's a loud cackle of laugher and Bakugou finds it hard to tie it to his former friend.

Izuku unlocks his cell, empty handed. Quiet footsteps make their way to him and before he knows it the villain kneels before him, until they are at eye level.

"Like I said… _ironic_ ,"

Suddenly there's a grip over him, as though someone's holding a gun to his head. It's strange but he can't quite describe it – he feels exposed and naked, more vulnerable with each passing minute.

"I mean," Deku's lips curve into something between a smile and a smirk, "Look at us…our roles reversed!"

Katsuki attempts to speak but chokes on his words, the emotions scrambled in his chest suddenly intensifying, as though by command. The guilt he's stored for years washes over him like a tidal wave and he's drowning, gasping for air.

Midoriya leans in, as if to kiss him. He can feel hot breath over his ear as he whispers, drawing out the words as he repeats them,

"How does it feel to be powerless, Kacchan?"

A soaring pain explodes inside his chest but it's nothing physical, rather something else entirely. Bakugou struggles to breathe as the emotions inside him threaten to boil and he stretches out his hands, desperate to dig into reality before it slips past his grip.

If he could find the words…hell, he might _beg_ Deku to step closer.

Reading his mind Izuku pulls away,

"Oh, I remember all the times _you_ slapped _my_ hand away, Kacchan!" he says in a sing song voice, flashing him a grin.

"Deku, you bastard…" he manages to choke out but then Midoriya steps in closer and grabs at his shoulder, fingers digging in until they leave marks.

"See what you did to me?"

Deku's eyes are two blazing pools of green, wide and scared. Despite the lust for revenge and all Ground Zero can think is: _this is hurting him too._

xxx

Bakugou doesn't have a way to describe what happens next.

There's nothing but hot, white agony. The room tilts to one side and everything blurs until the scene before him fades away, the only thing that remains is Izuku's high pitched voice in his mind.

It's not his current voice though, no, it sounds like a child, words spoken years ago now mirrored before him.

 _"_ _Kacchan…I wanna be a hero just like you!"_

It sounds younger, softer, rid of anger and bitterness.

Katsuki's one goal was to silence that sweet, almost angelic voice.

(He liked the sound of it, sure. Problem was, it only made the demons in his head louder.)

 _"_ _You should take a swan dive off the roof!"_ he hears himself, over and over again until the memory is all there is, his own voice a distorted echo that rambles his mind.

 _"_ _Your classmate Midoriya Izuku has committed suicide,"_

The words haunt him, floating through his being like a ghost desperate for revenge.

Anger and regret, guilt and helplessness take a grasp over him and he finds himself unable to shake it away, to escape the emotions like he's always done before.

Reality warps itself before him and he can't do anything but scream as a pain that isn't even there – it's not physical to begin with – overwhelms him.

xxx

Katsuki loses track of time but next time he opens his eyes he feels worse than after any battle.

He takes a shaky breath as relief washes over him – the pain is gone, his emotions reverted to small waves rocking a boat rather than the roaring storm from a minute ago.

He's on the floor, his mouth tasting like cement and his hands outstretched, desperate to hold onto something or someone. Shakily he attempts to sit up, only to find himself too weak to move.

Much to his dismay a small, pathetic whimper comes out of his lips, against his will.

"You peed your pants too,"

Humiliation explodes within him as he takes in the words and tries to scream back, swear and tear apart the entire place but all he can do is whisper, his throat hoarse,

"Fuck you!" he manages, pushing himself up on willpower alone, "I swear I'll fucking end you for this!"

Izuku reappears before him, sitting on the floor next to him, cross-legged. There's something different about him – he looks, for a lack of a better word – _damaged_. The dark circles under his once bright eyes are more pronounced, clashing against milky pale skin as a few drops of sweat trickle down his neck.

Before Katsuki knows it, there's a pale hand on his chin, raising his face up until their eyes meet. He explores the green irises for the first time, taken aback by the depth in them.

Between the flecks of turquoise he finds remorse and sorrow, a pain so deep and intense he struggles to comprehend it.

"Why?"

He does what he does best – lash out,

"Why _what_?"

Deku's lips curl into a grimace, a flicker of impatience livening up his gaze,

"Why do you think this is unfair when all I've done is give you a taste of your own medicine?"

Bakugou finds himself speechless, no response coming to mind. A part of him wants to trash and scream and destroy but then there's another, darker part that he doesn't even dare explore that knows the villain is speaking the truth.

He looks away, unable to handle the inquisitive green gaze of the boy he killed with careless words.

His fingers move on their own into a fist, only for him to realize he's shaking.

Izuku appears to notice and there's a switch in his actions. His grip melts into something softer, almost tender.

A swipe across his cheek sends a jolt of electricity down his spine.

Katsuki wants to deny it but finds himself unable to, his emotions intensified, like sunrays through a magnifying glass.

"Get your hands off me, you disgusting piece of shit!" he screams because he's still the same, even after everything.

Izuku pulls away, as though burnt. The hero doesn't have to look to sense to aura of hurt.

There's a beat of silence and no matter how hard he tries to listen, no sounds from the outside world can be heard.

"Get up,"

"Or what?" he demands, "You'll fucking kill me? That it!?"

He waits for a reaction, eyes glued on the other's pale face. In the end Midoriya shakes his head and turns around,

"I'll let you take a bath," he explains, taking him by surprise, "I don't think you'd like to stink, you were always a bit of a clean freak."

The sentiment in his voice takes Bakugou by surprise and he finds himself nodding, against his nature. Getting up to his feet proves easier than expected, now that the pressure in his chest is gone.

He doesn't dare look at his own pants, shaking his head as he thinks about being called a clean freak. _Ha, if only Izuku knew Iida_.

Walking up towards the door, Bakugou's mind already comes up with a way to escape. Deku's eyes follow the direction his own take and he smirks, seeing through his intentions,

"If you try to flee, I'll make you feel _that_ all over again, Kacchan,"

xxx

Thirty minutes later he's in another cell, a mirror image of his own, except this one is equipped with a bathtub.

He stretches out his hands, taking in the sensation of having them unrestrained. He'd make a run for it, if it weren't for the damn bracelet like device around his wrist.

"What the fuck is this?" he'd demanded as soon as Izuku planted it.

The other man smiled at him, bashing his eyelashes in an almost innocent way,

"This?" he asked, feigning kindness, "Oh, courtesy of the League of Villains. Try to escape and you'll get your brain fried."

Naturally he doesn't take to the warning and tries to escape, only to have himself electrocuted – something which, despite his stubbornness, he's not planning on doing again.

This leaves him in his current position – his body soaked in warm water, the quiet of the moment an illusion of normalcy.

Katsuki washes himself hastily, rubbing his skin until it feels a little less tainted. The emotion is still there, lingering deep inside him – as if being intruded, having someone else leave dirty footprints in his mind.

He holds his head in his hands, allowing himself a moment of desperation, wishing for someone to come.

Kirishima's face floats before his eyes, so do a few others – Aizawa, Uraraka, Kaminari and even All Might, retired or not.

(Kirishima isn't even his friend anymore but his brain refuses to acknowledge it – old habits die hard; real friendships die harder.)

"What's your quirk, shitty nerd," he grumbles under his breath.

More importantly – is it a quirk in the first place? A million different theories run through his mind but not one sticks.

In the absence of distractions guilt rears its ugly head and he is reminded _why_ they are here.

It's him, it's always been him.

It's as though they're connected and every step one takes echoes in the life of the other.

xxx

 _(Past)_

The days after the…announcement are a blur, an emotion he doesn't quite have a name for swimming in his head.

Katsuki loses something for the first time that day.

"Loss is a tricky thing – you never know what it is until you experience it yourself," the school shrink tells him, in that trained, flat voice that shows how little he cares, "To every person it's different, so it's normal for you to feel anger,"

Bakugou has never lost anything before – not a pet, not a friend, not a relative, not even a game against a classmate. He's never faced consequences either, living his life blissfully unaware of regret.

He's been king all his life, one that others regarded with nothing short of respect and admiration. Then suddenly his kingdom comes crashing down, all because Deku chose to follow orders, for once.

He begins to understand irony that day.

xxx

The only thing Katsuki knows about death and loss, he knows from cheesy anime him and Deku used to watch together after kindergarten.

In his mind funerals becomes synonymous with rain and black umbrellas, accompanied by soft, bittersweet music. Izu-kun would always cry at the scenes while Bakugou rolled his eyes, shook his head and muttered,

 _"_ _This is so fucking cheesy."_

Deku would tare at him with eyes wide and impossibly round and shush him not to swear as he put a chubby, pale hand over his mouth.

 _"_ _Don't say bad words, Kacchan!"_

More often than not they'd fall asleep on the couch, snuggled in a heap of warmth.

The memory is distant and faded, as though a figment of a dream.

(He'd rather die than admit he remembers those small moments between them, soaked in nostalgia).

"Katsuki?" his mother's voice is soft these days and he hates it, wishing desperately for her to yell and swear at him – anything to punish him.

"What the hell do you want, old hag?" he demands, not bothering to look up from the superhero magazine he's spent the last thirty minutes staring into without reading a single word.

"Watch your tongue, you ungrateful brat!"

He welcomes the harsh tone, despite the evident lack of energy behind it. There's a beat of silence and he struggles to come up with something to say only for his mother to speak first,

"The funeral is today,"

Bakugou shuts his eyes closed, as if he could forget. Mitsuki appears to wait for an answer but he has none,

"Here are your clothes, we'll be going in thirty minutes."

The door slams shuts and suddenly he's claustrophobic in his own room, glaring daggers at the black suit before him. Absentmindedly he has to wonder why the hell they even make clothes like that for kids.

Then he remembers Deku's probably wearing the same kind of suit, for the rest of eternity.

xxx

The funeral is during spring, on a sunny, warm day early May when no one should visit a place like a cemetery.

Bakugou's never bothered pay attention to nature, unlike stupid Deku who would always take pictures of blooming trees and mumble nonsense about how pretty the scenery is.

 _"_ _Kacchan, wanna play in the forest?"_

Midoriya loved every single season, no exceptions and never failed to marvel at them.

 _"_ _Do you wanna make a snowman?"_

A gloved hand outstretched to him, mossy green curls under a beanie…He can almost hear the other's childish voice, the way he sounded like a girl – something he teased him endlessly about.

(Sometimes he wished Deku was a girl. In a world like this, it would make things simpler).

 _"_ _Wanna go to the beach?"_

He'd said no every single time, no matter how many times Izuku asked, stretching a small, pale hand for him to hold. He'd slapped it a thousand times and more before littering his skin with bruises.

(There was a fleeting moment – one he barely remembers - when Katsuki liked Izuku's pale skin, the way freckles contrasted against milky white. He liked his vibrant green eyes, the messy curly hair. It made him look like a girl and yet he wasn't.

And it was wrong, wrong, _wrong_ to like a boy when you are one.

So of course in his mind, it was easier to garnish the skin with bruises.

He didn't naturally hate Izuku, he taught himself to.)

"Deku would have liked this," a small, annoying voice at the back of his mind informs. He'd appreciate the flower petals that litter the ground and decorate the black clothes of everyone who's come: In total four people.

"Izuku baby, why did you have to leave me?"

What gets him the most is Inko: the loud sobs escaping her parted lips, mumbling nonsense as she towers above a closed coffin filled with the remains of her son. Saying her last goodbye, parting ways with her child, the way no parent should…it all looks wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

Katsuki's guilt is overwhelming, bubbling over and escaping him in the form of ugly screams. A few fat tears roll down his cheeks without his permission and make their way onto the fresh, vibrant green of the grass. The saturated colour clashes horribly against the white of the tombstones, much like Deku's hair against unnaturally pale skin.

In the end he runs away – if Izuku can give up, so can he.

xxx

 _(Present)_

Bakugou finds a pair of underwear and newly bought clothes at the edge of the tub.

He puts the jeans on quickly, annoyed but not surprised they fit perfectly – Deku has always been good at observing.

Before putting on his shirt the door creaks open and Midoriya stumbles in – even as a villain he's as clumsy as ever.

Their eyes collide for a short moment, before the other's gaze travels down, falling over his chest.

He doesn't miss the way green irises trail over his defined muscles, taking in stray, pale scars. For whatever reason a spark of _something_ ignites within him and his sides are flustered.

"Don't stand there, watching me like some fucking creep!" he barks out, hastily putting a cotton red T-shirt on.

"Sorry!" Deku all but wails and it makes him stare at him because for the first time since he came back from the dead and into his life, he actually sounds like the boy he knew a life time ago.

Katsuki's lips curl into a smirk,

"Don't apologize you damn idiot," he grunts but there's an ounce of amusement to his voice, "You even suck at being a villain!"

Izuku's shoulders drop at the words and he can see something in his eyes harden, the atmosphere between them shifting. He remains silent on their way back, this time without resistance. After all, bad temper or not, he doesn't want to get his brain fried or worse – feel all those horrifying emotions.

The villain leaves him with a tray full of fast food and he's quick to retrieve, pale fingers already on the bars of the cell.

"Wait!"

The look on Deku's face as he turns around is surprised, almost hopeful.

Katsuki takes a deep breath,

"When will you tell me what the hell's going on?" he demands harshly, his anger flaring,

Izuku's voice is nonchalant and flat in his ears, "What do you want to know?"

Bakugou has the urge to snort but presses against it,

"Oh, I don't know…maybe how the fuck are you alive after you…"

The words hang in the stale air of the cell, threatening with their implications.

He can't quite describe the look Deku gives him, he's never seen one like that before,

"After I killed myself…like you told me to."

Katsuki can't handle the inquisitive green eyes, the demand for answers in them. He looks away, feeling like a coward for the second time in his life.

Midoriya sits opposite him, pulling his legs to his chest, as if to protect himself. It's ironic – after all isn't he supposed to be the bad guy now?

"I could tell you everything," he begins, as though narrating a show, "But you might find it a little hard to believe…So I'd better _show_ you. After all it's time you see what I can do."

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_** So, yay for a little cliff hanger! As the story goes on you'll find I have a thing for them!  
What did you think of the interactions between the two? Do you think Katsuki is in character? He feels very guilt about what happened but I didn't want him to come off as cheesy or too mellow. (Not a fan of when that happens).

What do you think will Deku show Kacchan?

Thanks to all the lovely people who wrote me a line: _Guest, Love, Catkitten, Ellie purple, RoseAuthor98, UnknownUnseenUnheard, Guest, Carrot, Lollipop12, Guest, Gaheller Saberhagen_

 _Gaheller Saberhagen -_ you're really sweet! And you made a good guess! _^^  
_

Please leave your thoughts, I love hearing from other MHA fans!


	3. Narrating the Show

**It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan**

 **Summary:** Deku followed Bakugou's advice and took a swan dive off the roof. Five years later they meet again and Izuku has a peculiar quirk that happens to be the hero's greatest weakness. (AU: Villain!Deku, Bakudeku)

 **Warning:** This chapter references suicide, so please read carefully.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Narrating the Show**

"I'll tell you everything," Izuku begins, as though narrating a show, "But you might find it a little hard to believe…So I'd better show you. After all it's time you see what I can do."

"What do the hell do you mean by _show me_?"

Deku doesn't bother answer as he steps in, so close they touch and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine.

"Answer me!" he demands harshly, raising a hand to dig into the other's shoulder.

The villain flinches, the way he's done one time too many to count. Bakugou's hand falls limp by his side and his gaze switches to the little cut-out of the sky he can see from there.

A moment passes and then another before Bakugou grunts, deciding enough is enough, he's never been one to play games after all.

"You have a memory quirk or what?"

A soft, melodic laughter fills the room up and flies out of the barred window,

"Oh, Kacchan," Deku sounds almost teasing, "You've lost your touch, haven't you?"

He glares at him as the words mirror his own insecurities and fuel his anger for not figuring it out,

"Before you would've read my quirk like an open book…" Midoriya's voice trails away, "But…then again, you never bothered look at others, did you? Maybe that's the one thing you're not good at."

Another jab at his chest from Izuku's pale index finger, as though an accusation. He's getting tired and frustrated by the minute, fingers clenching into a fist. Nothing happens, no explosions. Vaguely he realizes how much he relies on his quirk, what a large part of him it has become.

 _Take his quirk away…and what is left?_

"Anyway, like I said, I'll show you."

Bakugou opens his mouth to fight in protest but Izuku has always been fast and before he knows it a hand digs into the soft material of his shirt.

A scream tears through the air and it takes a second too long for him to figure out it's his own.

 **xxx**

The world before him is gone, replaced with some place dark he knows doesn't quite exist. It's oppressive and monotone, so starkly different from the real world he shivers against the cold.

 _"_ _Not gonna happen kid, you're quirkless."_

The words sound like a memory except they're not, at least not one that belongs to him.

He doesn't actually _see_ the events as they take place…at least not really, not with his eyes. It's as though the scenes are projected from within, in his own head. Like a dream but –

Suddenly it all clicks, as though putting a missing piece to the puzzle.

He basks as the limelight of his own realization but it doesn't last long as the pain is back to his chest.

 _"_ _You're quirkless, you can't be a hero."_

 _"_ _You're nothing but a useless waste of space."_

 _"_ _Just give it up!"_

It's not one voice now, rather a choir of them, all meshing in together. Katsuki's fingers curl around the spiky strands of his hair and he pulls on it, desperate to make it all stop.

The desperation, the helplessness that erupts in his chest is too much for him to take.

 _"_ _Even your name reads useless~! You useless_ Deku _"_

That one cuts through his heart like a knife and if he closes his eyes he can almost see the memory: himself at the age of six, standing before Izuku tall and threatening, like a villain inching closer to a civilian.

 _"_ _We can't be friends anymore if you're quirkless!"_

Despite the agony, the blinding pain that isn't even there he pauses, a small, frightening idea creeping up from the back of his mind.

He's never said that.

Granted, he tends to forget most insults he throws around as they are too many to count but this one specifically…it doesn't even sound like his own wording.

Not to mention, he doubts he ever realized Izuku was a friend, even as a small child he was always told how great and unique he is and all his mind could come up with was: _You don't need others. You're too good on your own._

But this…did Deku feel like it?

He's showing him his own emotions, is that it?

It's not just a smooth instrument to explain, no it's the way to punish him, show him what made him jump that way. And it's not just one careless sentence on a warm spring afternoon, no, it appears there's a whole chain of events leading up to this.

 _"…_ _Why don't you take a swan dive off the roof?"_

As soon as that dreaded moment comes up he's on his knees, screaming at the nothing around him. He doesn't see the cell's monotonous grey walls, the dripping sink or Izuku's pale, tired face anymore. Even if he tries to grasp onto something, hold onto reality, it merely slips away from him, the harder he tries.

Is this what insanity is? Did Izuku really go insane? Is this why he joined the League Villains?

Bakugou doesn't have time to consider it as the agony goes one level higher and He screams to make it all stop, except there is no sound around him. Perhaps this is what Deku felt like when no one listened.

 _"_ _Kacchan is right, I'm useless,"_

It finally gets to him – the words aren't really there, there's no voice that he hears. It's all inside his head, emotions his senses struggle to comprehend.

If he closes his eyes they appear like a messy school boy's writing, black ink clashing against the white of his notebook in its finality.

In his palm they feel hot and painful, cutting his skin like thorns.

 _"_ _All I ever do is make things worse…I anger Kacchan, I'm a burden to my mother, I try to save others, only to create more trouble."_

The thought goes on and on and _on_ and suddenly it's all he can hear, see and sense, as though Deku was truly obsessed by it, until there was nothing else to his reality. Bakugou attempts to dispel it but never manages, instead the agony consumes him.

 _"_ _I should listen to Kacchan, he's always right,"_

Then…it all stops.

The agony is gone, replaced by something else, something heavy like lead and cold like a pile of fresh snow.

There's clarity, the illusion gone, a decision made.

He realizes that's what choosing to end your life must feel like – you no longer sense the pain, rather the numbness. Like pressing ice to an injury it offers relief, you just have to hold onto a little longer and –

It'd be a lie if he said he really saw Deku killing himself. He doesn't, it's more of a feeling than anything else and yet his emotions have always been so strong, his imagination so vivid –

He pictures it, like so many times in his nightmares. A small figure, clad in green, standing on a roof,

 _"_ _You're useless,"_

 _"_ _You'll never be a hero,"_

 _"_ _I'm so sorry Izuku…I wish things could be different…"_

One step further, then another one,

 _"_ _Take a swan dive off the roof-"_

 _"_ _Kacchan is always right."_

Bakugou screams in agony, everything around him shattering. The pain is so overwhelming he can't process it as it overwrites all his senses.

He doesn't fight the darkness, he welcomes it.

 **xxx**

When he opens his eyes he feels as though in a fog, finding it hard to concentrate on the present. A short eternity passes before he manages to sit up, taking in the sunset as it paints the room gold and crimson.

His fingers dug into his own skin, the foreign emotions gone but their taste still lingering on his tongue.

There's guilt, anger and finally helplessness as he stares at the proof of what he's done.

Before there was leeway, a small chance that perhaps it wasn't his fault Deku committed suicide and he clung onto it like a lifejacket. Now he knows otherwise with the clarity of cold January morning.

And the things the other made him feel, his own…Did Izuku really feel that much pain? This poses another question he doesn't quite want to answer: What kind of hero makes a civilian suffer?

"You should eat,"

His head snaps in the direction of the small voice as it tears him away from the hell inside his mind.

Crimson eyes take in Izuku as he leans in against the bars of the cell, looking like a memory from the early morning. Except there's something different about him – his entire being screams of defeat and exhaustion, shoulders slumped, hands trembling.

Katsuki opens his mouth to point it out as he notices the circles under his eyes, one shade darker. His hair is a lifeless mess framing a tired face. Then there are his freckles, tiny little dots of colour clashing against pallid skin, more pronounced than ever before.

He thinks maybe in another lifetime Deku would grow up to be beautiful, in this one he's merely broken.

A single stream of blood trickles down from his nose and against himself Bakugou winces.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, nerd?"

Izuku doesn't bother respond, wiping the blood away with a dirty sleeve.

"You're the one locked away, worry about yourself, Kacchan"

He can hear the bite in his voice but even more pronounced is the exhaustion, laced with hurt. It does something funny to his heart as concern blooms in it like a damn weed.

"Whatever," he grunts in the end, "We both know I'll make it out of here. As a hero."

Deku sighs at his remark but doesn't comment further. Katsuki thinks it's worse this way, the silence making the whispers in his head louder.

He begins to understand the power Izuku holds and how dangerous it makes him. Having control over emotions …he laughs at the irony of it.

Deku's quirk is his biggest weakness.

Ah, the two of them truly are something.

 **xxx**

 _(Past)_

Katsuki never expected to know what loneliness is. He's always had people follow him around, trailing behind like a herd of sheep after their shepherd.

He's never cherished people - they weren't friends, rather blind followers, turning to see his every move, like sunflowers chasing after the sun.

"Bakugou…I don't think we should hang out anymore,"

The words take him by surprise and for one long moment all he can do is stare, before the anger kicks in,

"What the fuck do you mean!?" he demands harshly to which his two former companions share an awkward look, as though they've rehearsed this.

"We…we think what you did to Izuku is wrong,"

It finally hits him – his actions have consequences, like those of anyone else in the world. He's not that special, the laws society has work on him as well. The fury within his chest subsides with the guilt but it doesn't stop him from lashing out,

"Fuck all of you!" he bellows, "Look if I care about some nobodies trailing behind me as I walk away!"

They don't follow, no one else does from that point onwards.

(Bakugou is equal parts disappointed and …relieved. Perhaps this way no one else gets hurt. If loneliness is the price for it, he'll pay up without hesitation

It's funny – that's the most heroic thing he's done so far).

 **xxx**

Three days before the entrance exam for U.A Katsuki isn't worried, nor is he excited.

If anything he's numb, the only emotion left the anger simmering somewhere deep within him. It threatens to boil over and he has to be stopped by teachers a handful times before punching someone to the ground.

(It takes Deku to kill himself for those bastards to finally pay attention to kids getting bullied and _that_ makes him think maybe he isn't the only monster around).

One day his legs take him to Deku's grave without his permission. He finds himself at the same spot he stood at during the funeral, sending glares at the cold, smooth surface of the tombstone before him.

He's thought about what to say a million times and more but now he doesn't say anything, rather just screams,

"This is all your fucking fault!" he yells, emotions escalating as he gets no response, "You ruined my life!"

He's met by empty silence and a few gasps from other visitors. They aren't too surprised though, in a place like this it might as well be a daily experience.

"If only you hadn't been so weak and pathetic, you could have, I could have-"

The words dry up on his lips and suddenly he doesn't have anything to add, the fury subsiding to dying ambers. He's back to emptiness, the numbness that has found resort in his mind for the past few months.

He slides down, school uniform sinking into the mud. No notice is paid to the dirt or the patches of yellowing grass latching onto his expensive shoes because really what's the point to care about anything these days?

"If you just hadn't listened to me…"

It's barely above a whisper and yet it echoes in his mind and he knows it's going to haunt him.

Bakugou isn't sure how long he remains in that position, forehead pressed against the hard surface of the tombstone, fingers going senseless with the cold.

There's a hand on his back and he lashes out, ready to punch and _end_ whoever sees him like this. (For one short moment he even thinks about ghosts).

Before him stands Inko, eyes wide and green, a mirror image of another pair he's not going to see anymore.

"Katsuki…"

His own name sounds soft and gentle on her lips and he hates it more than he hates himself. She should be mad and bitter, should hit him over and over again because it's his cruelty that led to her little boy residing six feet under.

"What?!" he demands, cruel and vicious as always, even as he wipes away tears with a dirty sleeve.

He doesn't dare look at her, setting his gaze on something far away in the distance. The sky is a steel grey colour, as if synonymous with finality. He sees it fitting.

There's some shuffling next to him and he can sense Inko itching closer. She raises a pale hand, no doubt to offer comfort but seems to think against when met with a glare.

"You really miss him, don't you?"

The question breaks something in him and he wants is to get up, pull her by the shirt and scream at her that she has no idea what is going on, that she's talking to the murderer of her own son. She's offering comfort to the one who deserves it the least – the very reason for all this.

Instead he snorts, crimson eyes never leaving the horizon. A beat of silence and then he hears the determination in her voice - a distant echo of Deku's

"You should take this."

He's startled by the offer as he inspects the hand stretched out for him.

Katsuki recognizes it immediately, he can spot Deku's handwriting anywhere. It's the same notebook, №13, the one he threw in the pond.

(How much had he taken away from Izuku?

His belongings, his hopes, his dreams…the only friend he'd ever had – himself.

And in the end he couldn't stop himself and had to take away his very life.

What kind of hero will he be?)

His chest rises and falls rapidly and as a surge of panic bubbles up his throat, making him unable to breathe. It all lasts a moment too long and it only ends when a warm hand lands on his chin.

"Katsuki, look at me,"

He meets Inko's eyes and there's compassion in them, a motherly love so deep he can't comprehend it. It's wrong on so many levels it makes his fingers curl into fists and nails dig into his own skin.

"I miss him too…more than I can ever describe,"

Tears glisten in her eyes and he's reminded of all the times he's made Deku cry and how much joy it used to bring him. Now it's all shades of wrong.

"But…I know he would want you to succeed. You were his only friend."

Her words are the last nail to the coffin and he can't help the sob that flies past his lips. Because he's reminded who Izuku was all along - Quirk or not, he was never weak.

Izuku was strong enough to hide bullying for years, strong enough to hold onto the remains of their friendship, long after Katsuki had destroyed it. He had a heart of gold, choosing to suffer in silence, all in the name of making sure Kacchan didn't face the consequences.

And…a small part of him begs to ask – isn't that more important than a quirk?

( _That_ , that very strength Deku had was the very reason Bakugou hated him all along because he never had anything close to it.)

"I did this to him," he tells her but Inko shakes her head, never considering the idea,

"No, no, of course you didn't," she assures, tears rolling down her sides and pooling at the edge of her scarf, "If anyone should blame themselves…it should be me. What kind of parent misses the signs and lets their child kill himself?"

His heart, if he has any left, shatters at the utter guilt and helplessness in her eyes. It's not her fault, not in any way… But he's too weak, too useless to tell her the truth and face her wrath.

Instead she pulls him into a hug, clinging onto him, as if he's the only thing left from her boy.

He can't take that away, he's taken enough already.

 **xxx**

"You should take the notebook, it might help you as a hero," Inko tells him after what feels like ages, when they both get up on shaky legs and shiver against the cold of the impending winter.

He nods like the liar he is,

"Thank you," he whispers, words small and out of place on his chapped lips, "And I'm sorry."

"There's nothing you have to be sorry for," Inko assures as she takes his hand in hers, "Just…makes sure you become a hero for the both of you."

The words resonate with him and for the first time in his life he makes a promise that's not to himself,

"I will."

This becomes his new motivation to be a hero. It's no longer about greatness or competition, it's about seeking forgiveness.

( _How many lives do you have to save to make up for the one you took?_ )

To the rest of the world he remains innocent but he knows better…And that's enough, more than enough.

He has one too many sins to repent and he's not even sure being a hero will cover for them.

But he'll try, like Deku always did, even when being told no.

 **xxx**

 _(Present)_

Izuku visits him another time that night, just when the memories start to fade away.

He meets inquisitive green eyes as the other peeks into the cell, as if to make sure he's had his supper.

"You've eaten," Deku points out the obvious, lips curling into a small, relieved smile, as though that's of importance, as though Katsuki matters to him, "That's good."

"Why? You poison my food?" Bakugou snorts even as he knows that's not the case.

"No, of course not, I'd never…"

The villain looks away, realizing his mistake mid-sentence. Fingers curl into fists by his sides and he shakes his head.

"You know, for a bad guy you suck pretty badly?"

A small sigh leaves Izuku's lips, one of acceptance and resignation. It flies directly into Bakugou's heart and he loathes the very sound of it.

"Yeah…I do, don't I?"

Shoulders slumped, a dejected look on his face – it's as though whatever optimism and will to fight there was in him is gone and what he presented earlier was a mask, one to intimidate him.

Katsuki licks his lips, a sudden illogical desire gaining force in his mind – he wants to offer comfort. It makes little sense to him – after all why would he ever comfort a villain?

He bites his lip, struggling to come up with something to say – what would Kirishima do?

"Deku…" the nickname hangs in the air, posing a question he's not ready to ask, so he settles for something else,

"You… _how_ did you come back?"

Izuku smirks at him, a flicker of confidence back to his green eyes, though how much of it is real he has no idea,

"Oh, it's not a big deal really…" he pouts a little, "I just happened to be brought back to life."

Bakugou sucks in a breath, trying to force his brain to accept the reality before him,

"The best part is," the villain leans in, as if to whisper a secret, "It's all because of _you_ , Kacchan."

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_** What do you think Bakugou has to with Izuku being brought back?

Thoughts on Deku's abilities so far - he can do more than this but it will be revealed as we go along.

Do you think this ability will help them in the long run or do more damage to their already fractured relationship?

What did you think of the scene with Inko?

Shout out to: Guest, viki, ravenlily144, Guest - thank you for commenting!

If you're enjoying the story, please share your thoughts! ^^


	4. Comfortable Dichotomy

**It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan**

 **Summary:** Bakugou stares at the eyes of the villain, Deku's eyes, unable to believe the sight before him. There he is: the weak, quirkless loser he once took pleasure in tormenting until he drove him off the edge of a building.

"Oh, Kacchan, you look like you've seen a ghost," Izuku's lips stretch into a smirk.

"I have." Katsuki nods, vowing to himself to fix what he's done.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Comfortable Dichotomy**

"What the fuck do you mean it's because of me, nerd?" Bakugou demands harshly, his angry voice a cover for the dread spilling into his chest.

He knows it's his fault Deku killed himself, he's accepted that much. And yet…something tells him there's more to the story.

Izuku is sitting next to him before he knows it, pale hands rubbing at his temples. He looks tired and a small, barely explored part of Katsuki aches for him.

(Naturally he ignores that part for getting answers.)

"You'd better start fucking talking!"

The villain shakes his head, a spark of amusement behind the gesture,

"Still as impatient as ever I see…" Izuku waves a pale finger at him, as though scorning, "Kacchan, you don't appear to be learning your lessons."

Katsuki opens his mouth to fight back but the other beats him to it,

"The League of Villains keeps tabs on everyone," he tells him, switching to his more analytical side in a heartbeat, "We have spies in places you can't even begin to imagine,"

(Bakugou winces at the word _we_ but chooses not to express it).

"When someone presents a strong quirk like yours, the Leagues becomes interested…" the words hang in the air, some unspoken bitterness and jealousy behind them.

He sends him a poignant glare,

"I already fucking know that! The League wanted me to join and I already refused!" he barks, the impatience within him exploding, "You're not telling me anything new."

Deku sends him and exasperated look, signalling, _"I was just getting to it,"_

He sighs in the end, leaning further against the cold wall, as if for support. Katsuki doesn't miss the exhaustion written on his face. He has to wonder – is it a result of using his quirk? Or he hates doing this? Maybe both?

"Yeah, you did. And the League didn't take happily to it," Izuku continues,

Bakugou sighs – he should have seen this coming.

"Anyway, they figured the only way to make you join is through me."

The hero takes in the words, carefully weighing the dreadful implications behind them. There's a new surge of guilt and at this point he doesn't try to quell it – perhaps it's time for him to face some of his own demons, especially when one of them is standing mere inches away.

"I think…I think they looked into your past and somehow figured out what you did to me," Izuku adds and he sounds small and breakable, as though his four year old version does the talking, "Maybe they talked to some of our classmates…"

Katsuki sucks in a breath and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them,

"That's probably the main reason they think I'd make such a good villain,"

Deku's eyes widen upon the words and it seems a bit of the hatred melts away. There's a beat of silence between them – this time it feels a little less painful – before he goes on,

"Somehow they arrived at the conclusion I'm the only one who can convince you."

Katsuki snorts, despite the emotions in his chest, rocking him to his very core,

"That's fucking bullshit and we both now it!"

Deku shakes his head,

"Not if I use my powers over you."

Bakugou freezes at the statement, feeling as though the air in the room has been sucked out. The fury within him, the demand for answers – it's all gone, replaced by ice spreading through his chest.

"You…" Deku's voice is barely above a whisper and yet it echoes through the room, "You have no idea how powerful I am. What I can…do to people."

Katsuki bites his lip, struggling with what to say next. Slowly he begins to realize the power at the tip of Deku's hands is immense, what he put him through stands as proof. A spark of jealousy ignites in his chest but he quickly puts it out – he's lost the right to be jealous a long time ago.

(He's probably lost the right to feel anything at all).

He shakes his head, forcing the words out of his mouth,

"You're afraid of this power, aren't you?"

Izuku shrinks at the question, burying his curly head into his knees. It's an answer as good as any other.

The silence between them is almost tangible, pressing down on him, until he's suffocating,

"Deku…" the other boy doesn't look up and he doesn't expect him to, "How exactly did you come back?"

The pause between them stretches but for once Katsuki is patient, as if afraid speaking up might erase whatever progress he's made. This version of Midoriya reminds him of a small wild animal - one wrong step towards him and he might flee or worse - attack.

Still, he needs the whole story and bad temper or not, he has to play nice for it.

Because – as All Might has taught him – being a hero means putting other's needs before your own.

For one short moment – an eternity to him – he considers raising a pale hand and putting it on Deku's scrawny, freckled shoulder.

"They…brought me back from the grave, I told you,"

Bakugou tries very hard to ignore the shiver the confession sends down his spine, suspicions one uglier than the other,

"One of the villains…she has a reviving quirk,"

Katsuki's mind goes into an override, his imagination painting dark scenarios in broad strokes,

"Fucking hell…" he swears, desperation poking through the profanity, "Deku…do you have any fucking idea how bad this is? What power this gives to the League!?"

Izuku nods but otherwise doesn't move from his position, clammy forehead pressed against scrawny knees,

"What… _who_ are they going to bring back next?"

The villain – Bakugou has had to remind himself Deku _is_ a villain a hundred times in the past minute – doesn't respond. If anything he stiffens, as if coming up with a sudden resolute.

"Fucking tell me!" he demands harshly, voice raising by an octave or so as the impatience within him explodes like a bomb.

When he was a kid, he always thought anger was his best friend, the thing that kept him going. Now he knows otherwise, most often than not it is precisely anger that lands him into trouble.

That doesn't stop him from being hot-headed and reckless though – it's something that is perhaps his very nature – take that and what do you have left?

He grabs Izuku's white shirt into his hand, yanking the boy so close they could as well be kissing.

"Fucking tell me, you useless Deku!"

At first Midoriya flinches, green eyes frozen with fear. Bakugou goes on instinct, his actions an echo from the past…

After all they've done this so many times: _A bully and a victim._ It's such a comfortable dichotomy he finds it hard to break away from.

The fury in him boils over and though he can't use his quirk – it's gone, gone, he can still fight. His fingers curl into a fist and before even realizing what he's doing, he slams Deku into the opposite wall with one hand and punches him square in the jaw with the other.

"Don't you fucking get it!?" he demands, "The League of Villains could be planning to fucking obliterate the country and- and you are here helping them!"

Izuku opens his mouth to say something but Katsuki is never one to listen,

"What happened to you wanting to be a hero!?" he screams, droplets of his own saliva flying past his mouth, "Huh?! What happened to helping others!?"

"Shut up!" Midoriya finally snaps, pale hands curling around his, desperate to tear them away from himself, break free.

"I've always known you're pathetic but stooping so low…to endanger others, endanger innocents…" a sudden idea flashes though his mind,

"Like your own mother…that's fucking low even for someone like you Deku!"

The moment the words leave his mind he knows it's a mistake. There's a pause, lasting no more than a second and yet it remains sealed in his mind, years later.

Izuku's eyes widen, the emotions in them switching from shock, to horror and finally settling into hatred.

Deku's hand slams against his chest and all he can think, no, scream is: Not this again, please not this…

The emotions in his chest explode, the guilt, the regret, the unworthiness are back as strong as ever, as though compounded by all the many times he's felt them.

"This is all your fault!" Izuku screams, his voice raising by an octave, "We are in this because you! You are the one that made me into a villain, Kacchan!"

Bakugou doesn't even try to fight the tide that washes over him and threatens to drown him, at this point he knows it's useless – emotions are the one thing he can't punch into oblivion.

xxx

 _(Past)_

Katsuki stares at the white walls of his room in U.A.

He doesn't bring any of his All Might toys – that's a memory of a time and place he wants to run away from. He hardly brings anything other than clothes and underwear, a toothbrush and books.

Because really – that's what his life has been reduced to – the pursue of a goal, all in the name of paying a debt. It's no longer about him, it's about shitty Deku and their mistakes.

"WOW, is your room empty!" Kirishima screams one cloudy afternoon, when he has managed to sneak in, somehow without Katsuki noticing.

(Vaguely he realizes it has become a challenge for the other students to get into his room and whoever manages to do it first gets to win some shitty bet. Of course _Hair for Brains_ is the one to get in first.)

Bakugou shakes his head, he swears he should learn to lock his room and not for the reasons one might think.

"Like dude…it looks like a fucking monastery or some shit," the redhead continues, vivid eyes trailing over empty walls and a well-made bed, one reminiscent of that of a soldier, "Are you a monk? I mean you don't strike me as-"

"No one fucking invited you, fuckmunch," Bakugou growls, doing his best to scare away the other boy. Problem is, even his most threatening look doesn't work on Kirishima.

Instead the other's attention turns away from him and falls over something else,

"Hey, what is _that_?"

Katsuki's eyes widen in horror as he follows Kirishima's line of sight, landing over the small, beaten up notebook, the number 13 written on the cover.

He acts before he thinks, a strong pale hand slamming over the other's, his fingers curling into a death grip.

"Don't fucking touch that!" he all but screams and this is the first time he sees fear flicker through Kirishima's wide, innocent eyes.

(He hates how much he reminds him of another boy, one that has been reduced to a memory).

The redhead's skin hardens in order to counter the pain of his steaming fingers,

"Dude…you need to chill out," he tells him, voice going firm as he lets go of the notebook, "Like…what even is that – your diary or some shit?"

Bakugou truly wants to laugh, the sound bitter in his mind. Because really, him having a diary is a better, simpler explanation than admitting: _this is the notebook of a kid I pushed into suicide and his mum gave to me out of pity._

"More likely he keeps a list of the people he's killed,"

Kaminari's familiar, joking voice makes his head snap towards the open door of his room and let out a whole line of swears. He's had enough, the simmering anger in him bleeding into a stern resolute. He all but drags Kirishima out and pushes him into the unsuspecting arms of Denki.

"Get the fuck out before I blow you up!"

The door slams in their faces.

"Oh, Katsuki, you can blow me any day you want!"

The redhead's remark elicits laughter from the other students but soon enough they start to leave.

Away from their curious gazes Bakugou slides down the door, pressing the damn notebook against his chest. He can still hear his classmates' loud, cheerful voices, the way they joke around – careless and free.

Jealousy sparks in his chest as he takes in their amusement, how easy and simple their lives are.

This is all Kirishima and Kaminari are: Good boys wanting to be heroes – so starkly different from someone like him he finds it hard, borderline impossible to believe they have the same goal.

xxx

That night he struggles to fall asleep, tossing and turning in bed until he falls on the floor ungracefully, a heap of tangled limbs and sheets.

"Fucking hell!" he swears but still hushes his voice down.

No need to wake others up, just like there's no need to rope them into his own madness.

His feet take him to his desk, shaky fingers curling around the edge of the destroyed notebook.

The cold, grey light of the moon invades the room and he feels as though he's some place strange and not entirely real.

He starts going through the notebook, almost in a trance. The first ten pages are a blur: weird looking drawings of superheroes and Izuku's messy handwriting.

Then his breath hitches and as he takes in the latest portrait: In the crumpled, half burned, half soaked papers he can still trace the outlines of his own face.

"Damn nerd,"

It's all sharp edges and bright colours and he doesn't miss the triumphant smile, nor the messy bangs that frame his head in a way that is almost –

He doesn't allow his mind to stray in that direction.

Red eyes grow frantic as he takes in the words, the endless praise,

 _"_ _Kacchan is so strong! I wish I was like him!"_

(He can almost hear the other's kind, squeaky voice in his own head. How small it sounds yet how it speaks volumes.)

There are facts written in between the sketches and exclamations, calculations and observations that could easily take an opponent out. Intelligence bleeds through each row and quickly Bakugou finds himself completely wrapped into the other's words.

"That damn Deku," the sentence feels uncomfortable on his tongue, as though out of place.

The image of Deku in his mind grows and evolves, morphing from a loser kid into a force that wanted to create, not destroy.

Deku was his _friend_.

He'd destroyed the boy for nothing.

For the first time in his life Katsuki is ready to admit – he was wrong. Only issue is admitting it doesn't bring back people from the dead.

xxx

 _(Present)_

Next time he comes to the handcuffs are back on his wrists, a cold, hard reminder of the fact he's screwed up again.

"Fuck," he swears under his breath, pushing through the fog that every experience of Deku's power leaves him in.

He sits up, his head falling against the chilly surface of the wall behind him.

He shouldn't have been so rough, Izuku isn't himself, his sanity starting to dwindle. When he'd first taken him the boy appeared confident and strong but a closer look at the bags under his eyes, the shaky fingers should have told him the truth.

Deku seems to be slipping further and further away from the world and it isn't hard for the blonde to see the cracks in his sanity.

 _"_ _Perhaps an effect of his quirk…"_ he thinks absentmindedly.

They're here because of him and now the League is becoming more powerful, posing a threat that perhaps even the pro heroes can't handle.

"Fucking hell," the swear rolls of his tongue but does little to melt away all the emotions running through him.

This is not…this is not how he's imagined seeing Izuku again.

He's wished for it, dreamed for it a million times and more. Screamed for it before an empty grave, apologizing to someone long gone.

This is what he needs to do, apologize. His pride objects and explodes in his chest but for once he's willing to put it aside…If this is the price of keeping his country safe, then he's going to pay it.

If he gets Deku to trust him, if he makes him believe he's sorry, then he might even want to be on their side. And with such a powerful quirk-

"You feel more hopeful than before?"

Bakugou looks up, only to meet two familiar orbs of green stare back.

"And you look like shit."

(Yeah…that didn't sound like _I'm sorry_ ).

Deku sighs, too tired to bother with him. It irks Katsuki, the lack of energy glaringly obvious when he contrasts it against the boy he used to know a lifetime ago.

Something in his mind clicks, the realization so sudden it takes his breath away.

"Nerd," he begins and something in his voice must have caught the other's attention, "What the hell do they have over you to keep you here?"

Izuku bites his lips and raises his hands before himself, as if for protection. Hesitation flickers in his expressive eyes.

"I know you wouldn't be doing this out of fear for your own life,"

Bakugou meets his gaze and prays he can get the fact across without speaking out loud: _You can trust me._

In the end he seems to get the message,

"Kacchan…" the nickname feels out of place in the cell, "The truth is -"

Deku doesn't get to finish the sentence before falling to the ground.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** What do you think Izuku was about to say?

So yay for Kirishima! There will actually be a lot more from him! I love him way too much not to include him. Fun fact: I actually ship both Bakushima, BakuDeku and TodoDeku…yeah, I think there's something strange about me xD Just curious anyone out there ship all the ships too ? ^^

Thanks for reviewing : _ravenlily144, Viki, Guest, Gellaby, EtheriousLogia, Guest, Lollipop12_

 _Gellaby_ \- Hey, hopefully this chapter answered some of your questions about Izuku's connection with the villains. Don't worry - more is to come on that front as the story goes on :)

What did you make of Kirishima and Kaminari?

Share your thoughts on the chapter down below cause I love hearing from you all!


	5. Another Version of You

**It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan**

 **Summary:** Deku followed Bakugou's advice and took a swan dive off the roof. Five years later they meet again: Izuku is a now villain with a peculiar quirk that happens to be the blonde's greatest weakness.

(AU: Villain!Deku, Bakudeku).

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Another Version of You**

"Deku, you fucking idiot!" Bakugou doesn't realize he's screaming until his throat aches.

"Get up, damn it!"

His words elicit no answer and panic raises within him. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself of the damn counting technique Aizawa taught him.

"Oi, fuckmunch get the hell up, we don't have time for this!"

A dark thought runs through his mind – what if he's dead?

The implications of the idea echo through his head…Deku can't die, not again, not when so much is at stake.

"Just…don't fucking die, nerd," he grumbles under his breath as red eyes trail over the other's small frame.

Somehow Izuku looks worse a minute ago. His skin is pallid, clashing horribly against matted dark hair. Bakugou inches closer towards him, ever so slowly.

With some effort he puts a cuffed hand over his neck and waits. Underneath his fingertips there's a slow, steady heartbeat. Relief washes over him like a tidal wave and he lets out a shaky breath.

"You fucking scared me, Deku,"

He notices the small fingertip shaped sensor and swears for not seeing it earlier. With some effort he presses one of Izuku's fingers against it, praying it works.

It does, he hears a mechanical whirring and his hands are free.

"Finally!"

He gets up to leave, only to find the door firmly locked. There's no sensor on the frame and it angers him further.

"Damn it,"

A spark of curiosity ignites in his chest and he can't resist the urge of lifting Deku up. The smaller man doesn't stir but he makes a small sound, something caught between a whimper and a sob. It sends alarms ringing loud and clear in Bakugou's head.

"If those damn fuckers hurt you, I'll…."

He lets out a shaky breath before raising the other's sleeves.

The sight before him confirms his suspicions as he takes in the scars. They're one too many, some still angry and red, others more faded and smooth – a pale pink reminder of the past.

Katsuki swipes Izuku's bangs away from his eyes and freezes when the angry scar comes into view.

"Deku…" he mumbles, taken aback at the longing behind the nickname.

Before his ego stops him he traces the other's pale face with his thumb, taking in the clammy skin and the alarming warmth underneath it.

"Kacchan…"

He pulls back so fast he falls flat on his butt. Izuku stares at him, his gaze a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"Was I… hallucinating or were you really being nice to me?"

Bakugou shoots him a pointed glare, he doesn't like the almost flirtatious tone the other has adopted.

"Deku," he presses on the nickname, "You'd better start talking,"

Izuku shrinks before his gaze, green eyes straying away. The sparks of amusement from a minute ago dissipate and the air of hopelessness is back.

"You were about to tell me what those shitheads at the League have against you," he reminds, though he doubts the other has forgotten, "Before you fucking fainted."

Midoriya licks his lips, "Yeah, that tends to happen. Side effect of the quirk I guess."

The hero stiffens at the new bit of information but tries not to express his concern. Desperation practically leaks off the villain and it makes Katsuki's skin crawl. There's something wrong and unnatural about seeing him this way.

"Why should I tell you?"

Bakugou grinds his teeth, his patience running low when it isn't high to begin with,

"Because I'm a fucking hero, damn it!" he all but shouts, "And you look an awful lot like you're in need of saving!"

The effect his words produce is imminent as Izuku all but jumps to his feet, seemingly forgetting the fever,

"You saving me!?" he screams, voice high pitched like that of a madman, "What a fucking _joke_ , Kacchan!"

Katsuki opens his mouth to reply but all protests die on his lips as he's rendered speechless. It takes a whole minute to process the fact the other has just screamed at him.

And as it appears he has no intention of stopping.

"You're the entire damn reason I'm here!" Deku goes on, words inching towards hysteria, "You're the reason why I was dragged back from the dead!"

He shakes his head frantically as laughter bubbles up his chest. It sounds broken around the edges, a parody of a sane man's laugh.

"You…" the word hangs small in the stale air between them as Izuku jams a finger against his chest, "You made me suffer so much…and even that wasn't good enough for you. You couldn't even let me die in peace!"

The hero just stares at him, taking in the tears as they spill from wide, desperate eyes and roll onto sunken cheeks. His heart clenches with guilt and sympathy but he doesn't know what to do, how to convey the tornado of emotions in his chest.

Bakugou's pretty sure there's something wrong with him. Some days he wishes his mother took him to a shrink and he was given pills or anything really, any fix to make him _normal_.

Because he isn't and there are moments when his ego is nothing but a mask that hides an abyss of self-hatred.

He takes a step towards Izuku and stretches out a pale hand.

"Shitty nerd, I…"

Deku gasps at the small gesture, mistaking it for an attack. His mind screams at him to pull back but his hand remains outstretched - a plea for forgiveness.

Slowly Izuku relaxes, his behaviour similar to that of a small, injured animal that is being helped. (Bakugou has always been closer to animals than people. They don't talk which is a big plus).

He still doesn't take his hand though, instead moving away.

Katsuki flinches, the sting of rejection echoing through his being. In the end his hand falls by his side limply, like a deflated balloon.

"Kacchan…"

It's perhaps the first time in his life he's relieved to hear the nickname and the whole spectre of feelings behind it.

"Deku, I…" he begins, a million different things on his mind.

He's planned this conversation, hell he even scripted it when he hit his lowest point and there was a bottle in one hand and a pen in the other.

Now the words melt on his lips, like snowflakes falling in the dirt. He can't make them come out, all he's ever being good at are angry threats and empty swears.

"I…never wanted you to come back,"

Izuku's eyes widen in shock and he shakes his head,

"Well, that's not nice to say."

"No!" Katsuki nearly screams, "I fuck…I can't even express myself, nerd."

The villain doesn't press further and he pays more attention, cherry picking his words like never before,

"I never wanted you to be dragged back from the death. I never wanted you to be used against me like some fucking tool…You- you don't deserve that."

Midoriya's features soften a little and he sits down on the floor, the gesture followed by the hero.

"I don't want you to suffer again…all I wished for all these years was for you find peace."

xxx

 _(Past)_

The day of the sports festival rolls in before they even realize what's going. Time seems to fly by when looking in retrospect.

Excitement and motivation flicker in his classmates' eyes and Katsuki allows himself to delve into it too, heart beating faster as the hour of the opening approaches.

He scans 1-A and he knows with the finality of a sunset he's leaps ahead of everyone, safe for one person: Todoroki.

He's the closest thing to a rival and even he is lacking. Bakugou isn't sure why but the damn "half-half bastard" is unwilling to use his right arm. If he can trust Kirishima's explanation (and he knows he can) it's all due to some family drama bullshit.

Bakugou has a simple plan – attack and attack and spew threats till his mouth runs dry. It's all in the name of provoking the strange kid, making him use his full potential.

(He doesn't settle for anything short from the best, so he'll _make_ the other be his best).

"Dude, don't you actually want to win?" Kaminari questions as he announces his plan before the match.

Kirishima nods, "I mean you shouldn't-"

"Yes I should!" he all but explodes, angry and clueless at the way no one understands, "Don't you fucking get it?! I want a _real_ victory!"

The two boys share a strange look. Bakugou closes his eyes and sucks in an exasperated breath. The training room reeks of sweat and cleaning materials and strangely that smell has become a home to them.

"I don't want it to be fucking handed to me!" he goes on, for whatever reason eager to make them see, "I don't want him to give up on half of his potential due to some sad shit that happened to him as a kid!"

Eijirou opens his mouth to say something, seeing right through his words like he always does. Bakugou manages to outshout him, crush whatever shitty advice he has.

"I don't want him to be like-"

He almost says that name but never does.

The faces of his two classmates scream of worry and it makes skin crawl – he hasn't earned it. He doesn't want it, nor does he need it.

(The loudest, meanest voice in his head begs to ask: _Who the hell wants to be friends with a murderer anyway?_ )

"Just fucking forget about it," he grumbles, pushing them away as he opts to leave.

Before they can reply he slams the door of the training room under their noses and walks away.

Not like he can afford anyone to get close, _not again_.

 **xxx**

In his memories the day is surrounded by bright lights and encouraging shouts he remains deaf to.

He remembers fighting Uraraka, he remembers how the crowd belittled her for being a girl and he definitely remembers the wrath it evoked in him. How can people worry over petty little things like gender roles when you have a world full of villains on the loose is beyond him.

The fight with Kirishima flashes before his eyes and he can still see the determination in those familiar red eyes. Beating him was a real victory, something _earned_.

Finally there's the last round.

Todoroki's dad Endeavour won't stop screaming nonsense from the audience and Bakugou has a real urge to go pay him a visit and make him shut up, number two superhero or not.

"Don't you fucking dare fight without you flames," Katsuki snaps, red eyes falling over the other's.

Shouto doesn't flinch at the harsh words, doesn't argue back or even bother respond. He seems cold and detached, as though having given up on people a long time ago.

The impassive look on his face is what drives Bakugou over the edge. He charges again and again, using explosions and angry swears to get a spark from the other.

"What makes you think you can change my mind?" Icy Hot asks in the end, after they exchange one too many blows to count, "What makes you think you can change _anything_ at all with hatred alone?"

Katsuki pauses at for a fraction of a second, something in the words resonating with him on a level he didn't realize existed.

Todoroki's emotions morph from impassiveness to desperation and the haunted look in his eyes as his father screams his name almost makes him feel something.

All Bakugou can think is: _If Deku was here he'd fix this._ _He'd fix him._

He'd find the right words, the encouraging smile, a pat on the back and some inspirational bullshit like in a shounen…he'd make it all go away.

Problem is, he's gone.

And so is Todoroki in a way.

"Don't you see this family drama bullshit is only holding you back?!" he screams as he attacks but the other doesn't even raise a hand to block him.

Instead the bastard smiles, seconds away from the explosion:

"We all have our demons," He points out, voice nonchalant, "Problem is sometimes they win."

Katsuki blows up the entire arena that day. On records he says it was because of how angry he was for the other handing him the victory.

Deep down he knows the reason is entirely different.

xxx

That day the graveyard looks like something taken straight out of a movie. The grass is a vibrant green, the sky a pristine blue - a mockery next to the impassive white tombstones.

Bakugou can't help but squint his eyes at the bright, warm light the sun bathes everything in.

"Stupid fucking weather," he swears under his breath, trudging along the straight rows of graves.

He arrives at his destination before he's ready, wide red eyes coming to stare at the smoothness of the stone: little black symbols carved into it as they form a few sentences.

(It's strange really, those words will be there forever and Deku is gone. Vaguely Bakugou is annoyed at how objects last forever while humans are left to perish.)

He kneels down, gold medal dangling from his neck as it sinks into the soft grass. It doesn't feel earned, so why care about it?

"Deku," the name sounds strange and foreign, as though a word in a language long forgotten.

It sounds _wrong_ and yet he doesn't have anything else to go by, it's not like he's earned the right to go by on a first name basis…Midoriya sounds too formal, too final.

Bakugou has had more than enough finality at the age of sixteen.

"You shouldn't have fucking done it," he grumbles, words small and barely understandable, yet holding more emotion than he could ever express.

He wishes Deku would crouch next to him, put a pale hand on his shoulder (he won't even fight it) and tell him it's all okay. It's not his fault, he didn't really kill himself, somehow this is just a shitty nightmare, a prelude before the real story.

It never happens and he just remains there, squatting down by the grave of the kid he killed. All in the name of silencing his own demons.

(Some nights, as he lays wide awake in his bed he has to wonder – if he had the courage to share his own fears with Deku – would he make them quiet down?)

He's selfish to think that, selfish to wish the other could come back in the name of giving him a closure he doesn't deserve.

"Here, just fucking take this!"

His fingers curl around the round shape of the medal. It feels cold and empty in his palm, it feels like cheating rather than owning a victory.

Todoroki's cold face flashes before his eyes and for one long moment all he can think is: Deku would probably like the guy. He'd fawn over his unique ability and worry over the sad look behind his haunted eyes.

He'd make him narrate whatever sad backstory he has, shine light on the demons that prevent him from going further.

Bakugou is certain about one thing: In another lifetime Deku would find some sneaky, heroic way to save Todoroki from himself.

"Take it, it's not like I fucking deserve it anyway!"

He puts the medal at the corner of the tombstone, sparkly gold clashing against the white of the stone.

A moment passes and then another… the fury within him starts to melt away, replaced by something else, a strange sort of acceptance.

"Bye, Deku."

This time his words are rid of anger but it doesn't offer the much needed relief, if anything it feels as though giving up.

 **xxx**

 _(Present)_

Katsuki isn't sure how much time passes, how long they remain in silence.

"You…do you really mean all that, Kacchan?" Deku asks in the end, "Did you really want peace for me?"

The hero sighs, the anger within him igniting once more. He does his best to press against the urge to scream and shout, to tear and destroy. It's time to repair.

"When have I ever fucking lied to you?"

Izuku appears to hesitate, as though weighing his words. He presses a slim, scarred finger against his chapped lips,

"Mmm, but you could have changed for all those years."

Bakugou meets his eyes, taken aback by the fear in them. There's something skewed, something disgusting and _wrong_ in a villain cowering before a hero. That's not how it should be, that's not what society says.

"I have," he admits in the end, "Shit, I know I put you through hell but do you have any fucking idea what happened to everyone you left behind?"

Izuku visibly shrinks at the words, green eyes darting away.

"Do you have any fucking idea how badly this hurt your mother, Deku!?" he demands harshly, "Screw me, what about her, huh!?"

The villain's gaze widens in shock, as though taken aback by the statement. Vaguely Katsuki realizes there isn't a trace left of his former self, of the selfish kid who once thought the world began and ended with his initials.

Truth is, the former Katsuki is as dead as fourteen year old Deku.

Problem is he has no idea who this new Izuku is and he's desperate to find out. After all not only his life depends on it, rather that of the country as the threat of the League of Villains looms in.

"I've spent every minute since they brought me back thinking about what I did to my mother!"

Compassion blooms in his chest like a weed but he doesn't have the heart to pull it away,

"I hate myself more than you could ever hate me, Kacchan." Deku adds, voice barely above a whisper.

It's the surrender that scares Bakugou the most. Suddenly the threat of losing him reappears,

"Then make this right while you still fucking can, damn it!" he roars, hands grasping at Izuku's freckled shoulders before he can stop himself.

The villain shivers against his touch but doesn't pull away. Their eyes collide, red clashing over green.

"You don't get it, _I_ _can't_."

Katsuki has the urge to tighten his grip but doesn't give in,

"Why the hell not?" he demands harshly, "You always wanted to be a hero, here's your chance now!"

Deku shakes his head, green tresses flying in all directions, "I lost any chance of being a hero as soon as I jumped off that roof."

Something breaks in Bakugou's chest upon hearing that and he has no idea what to say, how to console. All the hero classes ever taught him was how to punish crime, not how to fix those who cause it.

"Not to mention…'" Izuku's lowers his voice, as though he's about to share something both important and terrifying at the same time, "The League has eyes on my mum...Her new boyfriend is a villain. One wrong move from me and he kills her."

It takes a moment for Katsuki to grasp the meaning of the words, to view their implications. His mind flies to Izuku's home and he can practically see Inko's face flash before him.

He shivers upon thinking about her in danger, about the threat of going to another funeral. His gaze falls over his childhood friend and determination floods his mind.

"Deku, I fucking swear to you, Inko won't die." He barks, taken aback at the resolute in his own voice, "We'll find a way to fix this, damn it!"

It's for the first time in years he wants something, believes in something. It's as though he's living once again, when he's spent years existing, chasing after a goal that lost its meaning.

The feeling is short lived as Izuku's words shatter the illusion,

"Oh, Kacchan…" he begins, tone empty and desolate, "What makes you think I'm _only_ doing this to save my mother?"

Katsuki is too perplexed to force himself to respond. A bittersweet look makes its way onto Deku's eyes as they're laced with regret.

"I mean sure, it'd make for a simpler story if I were only doing this because I was forced to but…but that's not the whole truth, Kacchan."

Dread spills in his chest and he's scared to ask the next question,

"Why else?"

Midoriya's lips curve into a small, sad smile. It looks broken around the edges, like an old Christmas toy that has been thrown away.

"Because I _want_ to. Because ever since they brought me back and gave me this power…all I've wanted besides saving mum was to punish you."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** What did you make of Todoroki – I had so much fun exploring what he would be like if he never met Deku! Not to spoil anything but let's just say we'll see more of him!

Huge thanks to: _Lokilust, Guest, Gaheller Saberhagen, ererigado, KilluaKagura, viki, Guest, Zionophy, Lollipop12_ for commenting on last chapter!

Thoughts on Bakugou leaving his medal to Deku? And admitting he didn't want him dead in the present?

What did you make of that final reveal? Do you think Bakugou can get Izuku's forgiveness once and for all? And how? Ah, I love hearing your interpretations!


	6. On Your Knees

****It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan****

 **Summary:** "How does it feel to be quirkless, Kacchan?" / Deku followed Bakugou's advice and took a swan dive off the roof. Five years later they meet again and Izuku has a peculiar quirk that happens to be the hero's greatest weakness. (Alternate Universe: Villain!Deku, Bakudeku).

* * *

 **On Your Knees**

Katsuki can sense pain and desperation behind the words. He starts to question Izuku's sanity and whether anyone, even a person as strong and stubborn as him, can remain sane after all he's been through.

Everyone has a breaking point and he can't even begin to imagine (he can but doesn't want to) what Deku was put through at the hands of the villains.

The sudden mood swings, the detached look in those green eyes he used to know so well – it all spells a lack of sanity to him.

"So, how are you going to punish me?" he challenges, buying time, "You have some shitty plan? Start with a little villain monologue?"

Deku smirks at him but doesn't respond.

"Knowing you, you probably made a whole fucking power point presentation about it," he adds, trying to sound like he usually does, insert a sense of normalcy they've lost a lifetime ago.

Izuku leans closer to him and he has the urge to fight back but thinks against it. After all he's not planning on provoking the other into using his powers again.

"Oh, Kacchan, you know me so well," he points out, green eyes stained with a tint of nostalgia.

There's a beat of silence and Bakugou can hear the winter wind howling outside.

"If we were in some other story, we'd be lovers by now."

The hero can't help but snort, a spark of amusement igniting in his chest. For all his hatred for Deku as a kid, he always found him cute.

(Not that he'd ever admit it, even with a gun pointed to his head. Bakugou thinks boys shouldn't find other boys cute. Or maybe they should, as long as they're not like him, screwed in the head.

He doubts he can love anyone other than himself. Not to mention murderers probably don't have the right to be in love. )

"You read too much manga kid,"

Midoriya chuckles but it's tainted, more bitter than sweet.

A small, barely explore part of Bakugou craves to see the other smile the way he did when they were kids. Before quirks, before he took a sledge hammer to their friendship and before Deku jumped off a roof and ended everything before it even began.

He doesn't know why he wants to see that sunny, radiant smile. Perhaps that's the only way he can truly believe the other is alive and not a figment of his twisted imagination.

"I've always thought we were connected Kacchan," the villain admits in the end, after a pause that goes on for too long, "I just wish it didn't come this."

The hero allows himself a small shake of his head, "Yeah, me too."

xxx

"So what's your fucking plan?" he challenges later that day, when the silence it too much to bear and the villain refuses to give any answers on his own, "You gonna have some dumb villain speech and give me all the nitty-gritty details?"

"Now who talks geek?"

Katsuki doesn't press further, even as his impatience is suffocating. It seems to amuse Midoriya, as though it's all a game. There's a beat of silence, the other drumming slender fingers against the metal of the bars.

"The plan is simple: I torture till it drives you insane to the point where you can't deny anything the villains have to offer because all you want is for the pain to stop. Then the League lets my mum go."

Bakugou doesn't dare meet his eyes or show the fear that holds his heart in its grasp. From what he can tell, Deku can probably sense the emotion anyway through his quirk.

There's a pause, as though he hesitates with the next words,

"Oh, Kacchan," Izuku's voice desperate and lost, "Don't be so hopeless, I'll only follow your example. This way my mother gets to live and I get to save someone, for once."

xxx

After the third time Deku makes the feelings in his chest explode Bakugou doesn't bother hide the tears. He hasn't passed out this time though so a small part of him clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe the other is holding back.

"What is in it for you, other than seeing me suffer?"

Izuku pulls his hand away, as though badly burnt by the question.

"I don't _like_ seeing you suffer," he admits, voice barely above a whisper and shaky, "But this _needs_ to be done. Ever since I was given this…power I just-I just, can't help it, Kacchan."

Katsuki opens his mouth to speak but the other beats him to it, blurting out the next words,

"The…lust for revenge I feel, it won't stop until I do this."

Bakugou can only nod, leaning in against the wall as he takes a deep, steadying breath. Part of him wants to punch him so hard he leaves an imprint but the other, more mature part, knows he needs to help him.

Revenge seeking or not this _is_ Deku and one thing he'll always be certain in is the kid has a good heart. Even if it's tainted, even if it's broken and beating when it shouldn't, it's still there and all he has to do is reach for it.

"Your power screws with your own emotions, huh?"

Izuku nods,

"I always wished for a quirk so badly…I never knew how far I was willing to go to get one."

Katsuki reads the desperation and self-hatred behind the words, perhaps because he speaks the same language. How to make it disappear though – that he doesn't know.

(If only Kirishima were here, he'd find a way to get through to him.)

"When All for One gave me this quirk, I was so damn happy about it at first I didn't even think about the meaning behind…"

So that's how he got his power. Bakugou shakes his head, "Yeah, you fucked up big time."

A laugh echoes through the room, bitter and cynical on Deku's lips,

"Guess you were right to call me a failure all along,"

The hero opens his mouth to protest but Izuku never gives him the chance, already jumping to another topic. It's as though being a failure is a fact to him, something that's not up for debate.

"Best part is I was only given this power because of you," he adds, snorting at the irony, "As a way to get to _you_. All for One thinks I'm the only one who can drive you insane so you can join."

"He's probably right," Bakugou shoots back, before he can stop himself. He's too tired to filter his words, make sure he looks strong when Izuku has already seen him on his knees, at his most vulnerable state.

"At least this way you'll learn more about your powers," he adds for good measure, "Who the fuck knows, maybe some sense will come back to that moss head of yours and you'll actually use them for good."

Deku shakes his head, matted curls flying from one direction to the other. The look he shoots him is so dejected it does something funny to his heart.

"I told you that ship sailed a long time ago, Kacchan," he mumbles, voice bearing more finality than he can handle, "The road to redemption is closed to me."

Bakugou doesn't have any magical words of comfort and he feels small and useless, a mirror image of the way he made the other feel.

"That's some fucking self-pity bullshit and we both know it."

xxx

Hours morph into days and Katsuki struggles to keep counting the times the sun goes red in the evenings.

He screams and fights and even tries to reason but Izuku doesn't bulge, the stubbornness he's always known he possesses coming to surface.

He doesn't lose hope though, he _can't_ lose hope. Not because of himself – a part of him knows with the clarity of a cold January morning he deserves this. It's because of the civilians and the heroes, it's because of his parents and Inko too that he must hold on and keep trying to save Deku.

(Having a resolute doesn't make it easier to withstand the pain though and there are times, when Izuku makes the emotions in him explode like canon fire when he wishes he'd just end him).

When the villain's hand slams against his chest and it sends him into the darkness again Bakugou feels as though he's losing it.

So, when he comes back he does to one thing he's never thought he would:

He _begs_.

"Just, fuck, please, just stop this," he whispers, voice so small and broken he doubts it's his own, "Please just find the strength in your fucking heart of gold and forgive me!"

Deku pulls his hand away immediately, as though hurt. Shock flashes through familiar green eyes and he appears lost, like a kid who's just been told Santa isn't real.

"Kacchan begging me?" he mumbles, incredulous, "Am I dreaming?"

Katsuki shakes his head, blonde locks swaying before his vision. His own hair appears longer and he has to wonder – how much time has passed?

"You don't look so tall now that you're on your knees, Kacchan," Izuku goes on and sounds more broken that triumphant or gloating, "I thought you'd last longer before begging me to let you go. I thought you wouldn't beg at all…"

Bakugou snickers, a spark so bright igniting his chest it illuminates the darkness,

"You think…I'm begging you because of _myself_?" he demands and he can't help the quiet laughter that edges on hysteria,

" _Fuck that_!"

The villain doesn't seem to follow,

"I'm only begging you to stop because you can't let this happen! You can't let those fuckers at the League use me against civilians to do God knows what!"

Deku takes a step back and he can read the surprise on his face as clear as day,

"I told you they have eyes on my mother, Kacchan!" He snaps, an explosive mix of anger and desperation to his gaze, "It's not like I have a choice!"

"You do!" Bakugou bellows, rattling in his chains, like a captured animal desperate to flee, "You could let me fucking help you, I already told you this!"

The villain shakes his head frantically,

"No, no, no. You'd never help anyone. All you care about is yourself, why the hell should I trust you?"

Katsuki takes a deep breath, taking in the lost, frantic look on the other's pallid face. He can see Midoriya is losing it and suddenly there seems to be only one way out,

"You know what, why don't you fucking _kill me_ then!?" he demands harshly, in a bout of bravery that tatters on insanity, "Why don't you fucking end me if you hate me so damn much!?"

Deku takes another step back, shock flashing through his eyes as he puts a hand over his mouth, horrified by the mere idea.

"If that's what it takes to stop you from doing all this crap – fucking kill me now! Tell the villains I attacked you or some shit, tell them I left you no damn choice!"

Izuku's lips curl into a small o-shape, so stunned he appears unable to speak.

"If it's going to give you peace, then fucking do it, damn it!" he whispers, unsure what else to say, "I sure as hell deserve it. And this way…at least the villains don't get to use me as a weapon."

There's a beat of silence and then a few quiet footsteps, inching closer. His experience screams at him he should be afraid and yet he can't bring himself to be. Even after everything, even after Deku makes him feel all those horrible, wretched emotions he can't bring himself to be scared of death or of him.

He isn't sure if it's bravery or stupidity, all he knows is he wants to make the other forgive him and he wants him to see the light, break away from the villains and tell the heroes of the danger upon society.

If that spells his own death, then the price is pretty low.

"You really mean that?"

Katsuki shivers as he feels Deku's fingers on his naked shoulder, cold and slippery. He closes his eyes, takes a shuddering breath,

"Yes."

He can hear Izuku licking his lips and can read the hesitation in him without a glance,

"You're ready to die because you think it might help others…" there's a pause, one begging for answers, "Because it might help _me_?"

Bakugou's pride flares and a small, juvenile part of him wants to scream no, wants to hide behind walls of swears and hatred he's spent a lifetime building. But that's not all there is to him and a bigger, better part of him makes him turn around and look straight into Deku's eyes,

"Yes, you damn nerd."

Midoriya's lips curl into a brittle looking smile, like an autumn leaf ready to be torn away from its branch,

"And if it doesn't work?"

Katsuki snorts, "Then at least I did all I could, even if it means I don't fucking live to see the outcome."

They spend a few minutes in silence, Deku's eyes locked on his, like sunflowers chasing the sun. He appears to search for lies, still hesitant to let himself trust.

"You…really have changed, Kacchan." he whispers in the end, voice quiet and small yet speaking volumes.

Izuku raises a hand to wipe a few stray tears away and Katsuki flinches as he takes in the scars on the underside of his wrist.

"Why?" he asks, the look on his face inching closer towards hope, "The Kacchan who told me to jump off the roof would never put others before himself."

Bakugou leans back, head thumping against the cold wall. Lying or refusing to answer is not an option this time. There's no point to it, not when Deku has seen him at his lowest already. Not when he's never felt closer to anyone than he does to him.

"UA, probably." He admits with a grunt, "Those bastards there…they really are something."

Izuku's expression morphs into a smile and it appears the closest thing to its former one. So close, it almost looks real.

"Yeah, I can imagine…they all look so kind, so selfless…So _heroic_."

Katsuki grumbles, a lazy smirk making its way on his face, "You'd fawn over each and every fucking one of them,"

Kirishima and Uraraka, Kaminari and Jirou, even Todoroki's faces float before his eyes and his mind strays, painting different pictures in broad strokes for him. Somehow he can easily imagine a different world, one where Deku gets to live and thrive and get into UA through some insane machinations.

He can see class 1A becoming his friends, can imagine Izuku inserting himself into their lives with his bright smile, kind words and undying enthusiasm. They'd welcome him, even that cold half and half bastard Shouto.

That world, as beautiful as it seems, shatters when his eyes open and he's met by the black bars of the cell.

"They'll come for me Deku," it's not a suggestion, not a promise, it's a fact, plain and simple.

He knows they'll search for him as well as he knows the back of his palm.

Izuku leans in closer and he can feel matted curls tickle his bare shoulder. The touch does something to him and he can sense an unfamiliar emotion set root somewhere deep in his heart.

(It's _wrong_ to even think about it, about them and yet he does.)

Deku sucks in a breath and when he speaks he doesn't sound threatening, just tired and perhaps a tad bit hopeful,

"Are you sure the other heroes are going to come for you?"

Bakugou's fingers curl into fists by his side as determination runs through his body,

"Yes."

He doesn't have to say more for shock to be written over Deku's face.

"Despite who you are as a person and how you treat others?"

For the first time in days Bakugou's lips curl into a small, bittersweet smile as his mind flies to the people he can begrudgingly call his friends,

"It's not about who I am as a person, it's about who they are."

xxx

 _(Past)_

For the longest time Bakugou's relationship with his classmates is everything he's thought it would be: Nothing beyond empty chatter.

Despite Kirishima's efforts he makes it a mission to be on his own, no fake friends this time around.

He eats alone in the cafeteria, music blasting in his headphones so loud he wonders if he might go deaf these days. He trains alone as well and when he needs a sparring partner Aizawa conveniently rolls into the gym without saying a word.

Teens love stereotypes and Katsuki fits into the made up hierarchy like a missing piece of the puzzle. He's the one with the loud mouth and the bad temper, the kid no one wants to be around and everyone questions why he even bothers be a hero.

"I'm scared Bakugou guy might be the traitor!" Mineta – better no one as _purple creep_ in his head whispers one day, from the back of the class, "I bet the villains sent him to infiltrate us!"

Katsuki introduces him to his fist repeatedly and doesn't hear the rumour again. He still sees the fear in the eyes of his classmates, and he'd have to be blind to miss the way they pull away from him in the hallways.

Hatred and fear, those are the only emotions people seem to have for him these days.

Then there's Kirishima.

Bakugou tries everything in his power to keep the boy away from himself, shove away every offer for friendship, stomp each tiny gesture of camaraderie.

"You wanna go out today, dude?"

He says no every time but that doesn't appear to work on the redhead.

"How about you sit with us for lunch, Blasty?"

He punches him but Shitty Hair merely activates his quirk and that's the end to it. He walks away with a grin and a promise to come ask him again every time.

xxx

"You were so good at the festival!"

The words do something funny to him, bringing about a wave of memories he'd rather have buried. It reminds him of mossy green hair and eyes wide in amazement, of Deku who always showered him with praise and love only to have abuse in return.

"I fucking know, damn it!" is what he shouts back, not even bothering to think it through, "You don't need to kiss my ass, weirdo."

Something akin to hurt flashes through Kirishima's eyes, as though the words have struck a chord. His fingers curl into fists by his sides,

"And you don't need to act like a fucking asshole all the time."

Bakugou raises an eyebrow at that. It's the first him he sees him angry and he'd be an idiot to miss the switch in the atmosphere between them.

"You wanna say something to me, bad dye job?"

He isn't entirely sure how it happens, all he knows is he is the one to throw the first punch. This time though Kirishima fights back.

Katsuki charges at him, the other easily ducks. He lands a fist straight to his face but the redhead activates his quirk and it doesn't produce the needed result.

"You fucking bastard, how many times do I have to tell to just leave me the hell alone!?"

He loses track of the time they spend like this, how many profanities they exchange.

"And I told you, I'm not going to just fucking leave you!" Kirishima snaps back and even in his rock form he can read the determination in those red eyes.

"Why the fuck not!?"

Another explosion, another dodge.

"Because you look like you need a friend, damn it!"

Katsuki's eyes widen in shock at the suggestion and for a fraction of a second Deku's pale, freckled face floats before him.

Kirishima loses his focus, raising a normal hand towards him, as though to offer comfort. It's proves to be a mistake.

Bakugou slams a gloved fist into his face so hard he can hear the bone snap and the other goes down like a sack of potato.

"What the hell man!?" the redhead yelps, fingers curling around his nose as blood pools in his palm.

Katsuki straddles his torso, not caring how it looks to the outside world. He grabs a handful of his school uniform and yanks him closer, to get the point across,

"Don't you fucking _dare_ look down on me, you damn rock like freak!" he snaps, voice becoming louder with each word.

Kirishima shrinks underneath him, his fury gone and reduced to something else, akin to shame and regret. It makes a spark of remorse ignite in Bakugou's chest but he quickly puts it out. He needs to teach the other a lesson, needs to make sure he stays away from him, for his own good.

"Don't you dare waltz around me like a fucking knight in shining armour who's saving damn princess!"

Eijirou's eyes widen and he can read the wave of shock that washes against the bright red of his irises. Katsuki raises his hands and rubs his palms together, little sparks igniting and the shock morphs into horror.

"Bakugou Katsuki, that's enough!"

Aizawa's levelled; firm tone sends a jolt of surprise down his spine. For a fraction of a second he loses concentration and a small voice at the back of his mind begs to ask just as to what the hell is he doing. Naturally he ignores that voice, the one that sounds an awful lot like Deku.

"Step away from Kirishima, now,"

Silencing the choir of pleas from his classmates who gather as onlookers, he readies himself to teach Kirishima a lesson-

And then – nothing happens. Sweat trickles down his palms and the fury in his chest explodes but other than that there are no explosions.

"Fuck you!" he snaps immediately, tearing his gaze away from the redhead and onto his teacher, "What kind of fucking right do you have to get involved! This is between me and him!"

Aizawa looks unimpressed, face as impassive as always, hands in his pockets. As though he's seen a handful of troublesome kids in his days and Katsuki is just another one of them, as though he can fix him with some wise words and a pat on the back.

"And what kind of right do you have to attack a classmate for offering you help?"

Bakugou is about to lash out when a fist comes straight into his face out of nowhere.

"Don't you fucking dare hit Kirishima ever again, you ungrateful narcissist!"

Katsuki is left to stare at the sight of a very pissed off Kaminari as he pulls away his fist and squats down next to his best friend.

"Eijirou, you okay, man?"

He doesn't miss the way his voice switches from fury and disgust to sympathy and care when he addresses the other boy.

For a short glimpse of time Bakugou doesn't even register the humiliation he's been dealt. Then the anger is back, stronger than ever, and he's ready to blow the blonde to pieces before the pro hero's strong hand lands on his shoulder.

"Bakugou, my office."

(He's never been one to follow orders or care about teacher's opinions. That day however a small voice in his head screams regret and shame when he sees the disappointed look in Aizawa's eyes).

The most shocking thing though is even that doesn't ruin his friendship with Kirishima.

After all seldom do friendships get past breaking each other's nose.

xxx

 _(Present)_

That evening they eat dinner together is silence, alone at the cold cell as the sunset bathes the grey walls in lazy shades of pinks and crimson.

He catches himself thinking about how there's some invisible thread bounding him and Midoriya, connecting them through space and time.

Once they finish their meals (sushi, courtesy of the villains that drop them food off while Deku lies through his teeth about making progress with his prisoner), they remain engulfed in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Katsuki could almost call it domestic, safe for him being a kidnapped and the bracelet that threatens to electrocute him any minute.

"Kacchan…" the nickname tears him away from the introspection and he looks up to the familiar shade of green.

"What, nerd?"

Izuku appears hesitant but presses through,

"Did you really mean it when you said I could still do good?"

Bakugou doesn't have to think twice before answering, "Yes…I mean hell, that's what I tell myself."

Deku's eyes widen a bit, as though still shocked and a little scared by this new side of him he only now presents.

It's as though he's finally, finally beginning to see him for what he is now and not that loud-mouthed, cruel teen boy. It makes hope blossom like a cherry tree mid April in Katsuki's heart and he both loves and hates the feeling.

"Kacchan… you really have become the hero I thought you would be when we were kids,"

Bakugou feels something in his heart loosen and flutter and he isn't sure if he should embrace the feeling or run away from it. Izuku leans in closer, as though to kiss him. He's so close the hero can feel his hot breath over his lips,

"You know…it's a long road to redemption, Kacchan. I can't promise anything but…perhaps we could try walking it together. "

* * *

 **Author's Note:** No cliff hanger this time around…BUT this is only because next chapter will leave on a note that's bound to get a few gasps (smirks like the evil author I am!)

Plus next chapter we finally get Uraraka!

Thoughts on Kirishima and Bakugou's fight? And Kaminari throwing a punch to protect his best friend?

Thank you _Guest, ererigado, Guest, Fandomslayer101, FrostyAngelWings, booklover2098_ for commenting~!

Do you think Kacchan is redeeming himself?

Also, if you think Deku's beaten all the darkness…mmm, think again xD

Please review, I love hearing back from you!


	7. Something New

**It's a Long Road to Redemption, Kacchan**

 **Summary:** Bakugou stares at the eyes of the villain, Deku's eyes, unable to believe the sight before him. There he is: the weak, quirkless loser he once took pleasure in tormenting until he drove him off the edge of a building.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Something New**

Bakugou can't figure what goes on in Deku's head but the villain doesn't torture him anymore, so he takes it as a good sign.

Impatience brews in his chest and he wants nothing more than to break free and warn the other heroes of the League's plans. Still, he needs to earn Izuku's trust first, if he has any chance of saving what remains of the kid he once knew.

"Kacchan…" Deku's voice sounds different today and his eyes speak of hesitation, as though he's toying with an unfamiliar idea.

"What, nerd?"

The villain steps closer and squats down before him, pulling his knees against his chest. He's biting his lip and Katsuki can smell a bout of mumbling incoming,

"Just spew it out, damn it,"

"Can I…can I try something new on you today?"

Bakugou's eyes widen in shock and fear seizes his heart. Izuku's quirk appears to have no long last effects but he doesn't want to go through with it ever again.

"Why? You want to torture me some more?" he lashes out, whatever hope he had of making progress with the other pulled out from under his feet.

Deku waves his scarred hands before him frantically,

"What, no! I…I actually want to make you feel something _good_ for a change,"

Katsuki stares at him wide-eyed, trying to grasp the meaning behind the words,

"Can you even do that?"

It actually makes sense – if he can intensify the negative emotions one holds, why not the positive?

"I…I actually don't know," Izuku admits, a fleck of his childhood insecurity coming to the surface, "The villains…all they ever wanted was for me to explore this…dark side of my quirk, they never allowed me to do anything else."

Bakugou offers a curt nod, trying not to think about all the horrors those bastards must have put him through. He promises himself to take his time to make them suffer, careless of what the police or his agency may say.

He can imagine Deku small and broken, being torn away from his eternal rest, only to be tortured. It's a miracle he hasn't gone completely insane by now but that's probably just the nerd's infamous bullheadedness, mixed in with a long lost desire to be a hero.

"Kacchan…"

Katsuki closes his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. The selfishness in him spikes, as strong as ever. He tries to quell it, remind himself he's so no longer that explosive teen who only cared about his own good.

"I actually…I want to do it because this way I can find out if you really have changed for the best," Midoriya adds, words measured and careful, rehearsed.

Bakugou nods and he reads right through what the other's saying – this is a test for both of them. A test to show if he can be forgiven and if there's still hope for Deku.

He doesn't spend time pondering it, rather jumps into the opportunity head first, like the desperate man he is.

"Do your best, nerd."

Izuku's eyes light up and for a fleeting moment they almost look the way they did all those years ago – vibrant green and rich with hope.

"Thank you!" he says in a sing song voice, lips curling into a smile, "I promise this won't hurt!"

The hero licks his chapped lips, taking in the kindness, mixed in with insecurity exuding from the other. How Deku can manage to be a villain and still act nice, even after everything, is beyond him. Then again perhaps he never really understood the green haired boy.

"Just get over it," he grumbles, as impatient as ever.

The other raises a pale, scarred hand and puts it over his chest. Katsuki lets out a shaky breath, the other's touch doing something funny to his heart. Izuku's fingers are cold but gentle and he finds it hard to grasp how quickly his intentions change.

He can feel Deku's scarred fingers through his thin T-shirt and the contact makes him imagine things he knows he shouldn't.

A small voice inside his head suggests Izuku's sanity is shaken, his mind straying in different directions. He can't fantasize, can't imagine the story going a different way, the two of them going in the same direction.

(Even if he wants to).

He forces himself to believe there is nothing more to Deku's touch.

"Ready?" Midoriya sounds almost hopeful, so he meets his eyes and gives a curt nod,

"As much as I'll ever be,"

xxx

Reality slowly starts to fade, his thoughts melting away and succumbing to the brutal force of his emotions.

This time it's different.

There's no pain, no desire to escape the trap of his own imagination.

Katsuki can't quite describe it but he feels as though floating, various warm emotions bubbling up his chest. On instinct he stretches out a pale hand and tries to grasp them, cling onto the sense of bliss.

The anger – ever present and simmering in his chest – slowly dissipates, until it's reduced to steam, slowly evaporating into the air.

A memory flashes before his eyes and he's reminded of the time he caught Kirishima and Kaminari getting high in the redhead's room during their third year at UA, when Aizawa had a leave of absence.

Suddenly, he's there.

* * *

 _(Past)_

"Dude, you should totally try it!" Eijirou suggests, sharp teeth locked into a lazy grin.

Bakugou scrunches his nose at the stench of weed, refusing to give in to the childish antics of his classmates.

Denki throws a hand around his broad shoulders and turns to look at him, his pupils the size of plates.

"Just go for it, man! We were just discussing…isn't it strange we have two eyes and ears and hands but only one mouth?"

Katsuki can imagine his seventeen year old self shake his head,

"Perhaps that means you should talk less, _idiot,_ "

His two friends erupt into laughter as though this is the funniest moment of the lives.

"Dude, come on try it!" Kirishima encourages, as he dangles the joint before his face, "Just be mindful of the pants stealing gnomes!"

Katsuki shakes his head, mumbling a low,

"Fucking idiots, you'll never grow up," as he leaves, a trail of laughter following his footsteps.

"Don't tell Jirou you caught us!" Kaminari's voice trails behind him but he ignores it, "She'll cut my dick off if she finds out I smoked in the dorms!"

xxx

The memory brings about a feeling of camaraderie, filtered through prism of nostalgia.

Bakugou finds it strange how all the small moments appear bigger and more important in retrospect, as though he's looking though a magnifying glass. There are days he wishes to relive, so he can appreciate them for the first time.

"Those idiots sure knew how to party…"

The moment slowly fades away and morphs into a different scene.

The nice feeling draping over his shoulders dissipates and stronger, sharper feelings come to the surface. The guilt and anger he's felt for years are back, as potent as ever and Katsuki's red eyes go wide as he remembers _that_ moment. A bit of the soft magic Deku has him under starts to fade away…

"Kacchan, relax," Izuku's voice sounds different, slightly hushed, as though coming from far away. Bakugou takes a shaky breath and tries to listen, for once,

"Just focus and all the good, ignore the rest."

Bakugou's gaze trails over his surroundings, the memory so vivid it might as well be real. The emotions in his chest intensify and he finds out the only way to make them go away is to allow himself to feel first.

 **xxx**

 _(Past)_

It's a rainy day mid-November and they're about to head home and study for the damn Math test on Thursday. He trudges behind a few of his classmates, boredom and annoyance on his mind. He's not in the mood to go to his room just yet and delve into the world of Algebra.

The first time he hears screaming, he doesn't even turn around, gaze focused on the horizon. It's probably just some prank gone wrong.

It isn't until someone screams, _"Villains!"_ that he looks up, blazing red eyes demanding answers.

There's a spark of fear igniting in his chest but he puts it out as quickly as it came and fury engulfs his heart.

"Fucking hell!" the swear rolls of his tongue and he puts his palms together, ready to blast anyone away.

The details are a blur but he realizes the situation has gone south when a loud scream tears through the air.

His gaze flies in its direction only to find Tenya on the ground, right leg slashed and blood pouring out of it. There's a small puddle on the ground already and his skin is pale, unnaturally so.

Bakugou doesn't have time to figure out how or why it happens, all he knows it he must help because that's what heroes do, that's what All Might would do and that's what Aizawa has taught him.

 _"_ _Hold on!"_

Vaguely he figures someone beats him to the whole rescuing thing and to his utter amazement Uraraka – _Round Face_ – stands tall and proud before the other boy. (Probably her boyfriend as a small, nagging voice that sounds an awful lot like Kaminari in his head suggests).

"Don't you dare hurt him!" Ochako snarls but he doesn't miss the horror in her voice, nor does he ignore the bravery.

"Oh, what a cute little girl," the villain mocks, sharp teeth forming a crooked smile "What are you gonna do, kiss him to make it better?"

A bout of laughter echoes through the ranks of the villains and Katsuki's blood boils with anger. He's itching for an explosion or a dozen.

He blasts his path towards what looks like the leader, leaving blood and broken limbs behind. He doesn't pay attention to the blows that land over him, nor does he notice the taste of iron in his mouth.

When he fights, it's as though he's in another dimension, one reduced to him and his enemies, bound together by the mutual desire for destruction.

A sudden scream tears him away from his path and he snaps around to take in a grotesque view.

Uraraka's soaked in blood, pale hand clinging onto her own injured shoulder as she kneels down next to Tenya, desperate to offer help.

"Just leave me and go!" Iida screams, dark blue eyes full of conviction.

Katsuki has the urge to roll his eyes – _ever the martyr_. Then again he'd probably do the same.

"I'm not leaving you!" Ochako shakes her head, stretching out a hand towards him, as though to get him to his feet.

She doesn't get the chance as the villain yanks her by the hair, making her turn and stare at him, brown eyes wide in horror.

"I won't even use my quirk, I wanna hear those pretty little bones in you snap,"

Bakugou doesn't think, he acts.

A single explosion propels him away and he lands before the enemy, much like a superhero in those damn magazines. Adrenaline pulses in his veins and he doesn't even notice his own blood decorating the pavement.

"Get your fucking hands off her,"

The man snorts, unimpressed,

"Why? You her knight in shining armour?"

Bakugou smirks, "Nah, but I will be the one that kills you."

The villain laughs, the sound dry and cynical against the stench of blood,

"Hell, kid, you read too much manga, no one says crap like that anymore. Symbol of Peace is gone, remember?"

Bakugou pays no notice to the vile words, preoccupying himself with the fight instead. This time it's different, the guy much stronger than his underlings.

He blasts a few explosions, lands a few good punches but without his gear he can only do so much.

"Mmm, kid, you're _good_ ," the villain drags the word out, a tint of amazement mixed in with recognition to his voice, "Not good enough though,"

He breaks out of the death grip Katsuki has on him with surprising ease and it makes dread curl around the teen's heart. He doesn't have time to react to the punch and vaguely he realizes the other has some sort of enhanced speed. A fist to the face lands him square on his ass.

The haziness of the scene tells him he's lost too much blood and the fight is taking a toll on him sooner than it should.

"Katsuki!" Uraraka's voice is frantic and a part of him knows that probably means he's in trouble. He throws a glare, as though to tell her to shut up but really it's more of a way to reassure himself.

He manages another explosion but the criminal dodges, then attacks once more. There's a kick to his back, a knee to the chest and he's already on the ground, lips stained red.

"You fucking bastard," is all he can manage as the world tilts to one side and black spots stain his vision.

"You have potential kid," the other points out and he can hear the smirk in his voice, "Too bad you didn't join us when given the chance."

Bakugou opens his mouth to swear but chokes instead. The villain delivers one final attack before stepping away, turning his back on him.

Big mistake, the blonde muses.

"Now about your friends…"

Reality starts to slip away from Katsuki's grasp and he's too weak to fight away the darkness that spreads from the corners of his vision.

"Get away from us!"

Then, he hears Uraraka yell. It does something to him, his blood running cold and eyes going wide in shock.

He's not sure how it happens but his legs start working before he can comprehend what's going on and suddenly he's up, staggering towards the villain. The man doesn't notice him, nor does he see it coming.

Bakugou's lips stretch into a predatory grin and with the last bit of strength he has he brings his bloodied, broken arms together and creates a blast.

He doesn't get to see the look on the bastard's face but he does hear a few screams of agony.

(His brain doesn't even register a few of those screams are his own.)

The important thing is the villain falls to the ground, away from his classmates. They're safe and it's only because of him.

Against all odds happiness blossoms in his chest like a sunflower, the clouds of guilt and anger scattering.

He's saved one, no two lives already. And it counts… right?

Deku would be…he would be proud.

And really that's all that matters, so he manages a weak smile. He looks up to the steel sky – _See that, Izuku?_

(If he dies like this than at least he gets to tell the damn nerd he saved someone).

 **xxx**

The next memory is one of him lying in a hospital bad, his own heartbeat echoed through a machine.

Bakugou huffs to the best of his ability as he scans through the room with a disappointed glare… so, he didn't die – how anticlimactic.

Aizawa's tired face comes into view and he's told to never scare them like that ever again. He pays no notice but his teacher looks relieved so he figures, the others are probably okay, UA gets to survive another day.

"Go to sleep, Bakugou," the pro hero instructs and he grunts, not like he's one to follow orders. His brain though has other plans and he passes out not a minute later.

Even in that dreadful state between two worlds, clinging onto consciousness he still doesn't miss the content of knowing – he's saved someone, for once.

The feeling is warm and reassuring, like a blanket draped across his shoulders during a storm.

 _"_ _I knew you could do it, Kacchan,"_

 **xxx**

"What you did was very brave," Aizawa tells him two days later, when Bakugou is strong enough to sit up in bed.

He's a wreck but he will recover fully and that's all he chooses to focus on. That and knowing he's started paying back a debt long overdue.

"Not like I did it to get some dumb praise," he barks, voice thick with underuse, like nails to a chalkboard.

"It was also very, very stupid," the teacher adds, leaning in closer.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, yeah, he already heard that from his parents and even principal Nezu who thought UA's most reckless, bravest student deserved a special visit after cheating death.

(That or he didn't want his parents to sue the academy so he had to act nice).

"You shouldn't have risked your life on your own, should have called for help," Aizawa continues, voice as calm and levelled as always.

Bakugou meets his eyes – tired and bloodshot. They don't seem calm and he's learnt a long time ago you should trust a man's eyes and nothing else. A spark of guilt ignites in his chest and for a fraction of a second he feels sorry for what he's done.

Not because of himself but rather the tears his mother refuses to shed and the exhaustion on his dad's face. If he were to be gone…he shakes his head, no way in hell is he starting to think about that.

"Yeah and in the meantime _Round-face_ and _Four-eyes_ would've fucking died!" he shouts, words so loud they might as well silence his demons.

Aizawa leans back against the plastic chair, shaking his head as his black locks sway from one direction to another. He gives him a long, steadying look and Katsuki feels as though for the first time in his life someone really looks at him.

Not at his amazing quirk, good looks or bad temper but _at him_.

"And what if _you_ died?"

Bakugou lets out a snort, trying to hide the chill that runs down his spine. His good hand (the other is in a sling) curls into a fist,

"At least I would've gone out doing something good, for once."

The words leave his mouth before he can stop himself and he clasps his fingers around his mouth to take them back. He can't of course – words don't work like that, he's learnt in the hard way. The atmosphere shifts, something heavy like lead pressing down his shoulders.

He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, the only sound he can hear his own heartbeat and the annoying beep of the machine.

"Whatever you feel guilty for, it's not worth dying over,"

Katsuki laughs, the sound stained and bitter and making his split lip throb,

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I've done,"

Aizawa crosses his arms over his chest and shoots him a long stare which morphs from scrutiny into something _soft_. Bakugou mistakes it for pity until realizing it's not, rather an emotion he has no name for.

"I know you lost a friend."

Dread slips into his chest and makes his blood run cold. His heart monitor spikes and he has to take a steady breath to calm down before the nurses rush in. For one long moment he foolishly thinks perhaps UA knows. Perhaps they have put the pieces together and he gets to pay for what he did to Deku.

Perhaps he gets kicked out because no one wants a hero who has his hands painted with blood.

"What, you don't think we run our background checks on everyone we accept?" Aizawa asks, taking in his shock.

A part of Katsuki is scared but the other is…relieved. At least now someone knows which means he'll be punished for what he's done. There won't be any more nice treatment he hasn't earned.

"I can't imagine what a nightmare it is to lose someone at such a young age," his teacher adds and the illusion shatters.

So…So they don't know. He gets another day in the prison of his own guilt then.

"What I do know, is the person you lost wouldn't want you to die,"

Bakugou shakes his head at the comment, a sudden desire to laugh at the utter irony of it. The words strike a chord without the older hero realizing it. A few pesky tears escape his eyes but he refuses wipe them away as that would mean acknowledging them.

(He runs the fastest when running from his own demons).

"Next time, don't go out there killing yourself," Aizawa instructs, adopting the fatherly tone his own dad's always been a master of, "You _do_ deserve help, as much as everyone else."

The blonde doubts it but a small part of him, the one that still remembers he's only sixteen, clings onto the words and begs him to just believe.

(It makes something warm, warm and safe spread through his chest.

In another world Deku smiles at him.)

 **xxx**

The next memory takes place a few days later, once his classmates are allowed to visit.

Katsuki isn't surprised when a pair of gentle arms wraps around him and a mop of soft brown hair invades his privacy.

"You saved my life!" Uraraka tells him, the moment she releases him, after being sworn at profusely.

He grunts, as though to signal he doesn't care,

"Mine and Iida's too!" she adds, chocolate-like eyes full of genuine gratitude.

Bakugou holds her gaze for a second too long and it does something funny to him, melting away a bit of the ice that surrounds his heart. The room suddenly appears brighter, as though Ochako's smile has brought a life of its own to it.

"You were so brave," the brunette adds as her hand lands on his, thumb swiping through a small patch of skin that isn't bruised.

He wants to push her away but never quite goes through with it and he isn't sure why. Perhaps it's the bravery behind her gestures, how she doesn't seem afraid to show the world every emotion that goes through her heart.

(It's a different kind of bravery – a quiet one that has nothing to do with defeating villains or explosions…Katsuki thinks perhaps it deserves the same respect.)

That and – and Bakugou can't remember the last time anyone held his hand. Better yet he does remember it and doesn't want to as Deku's smiling, childish face is now sealed in his mind.

"Of course I was fucking brave," he grumbles, for good measure.

The girl chuckles, rolling her eyes at his usual antiques. She then bites her lip, hesitating with the next words.

"You know…you're not as bad as you pretend to be, Katsuki."

He looks away, red eyes trailing over the square of pristine blue sky the windows frame.

"You don't have to say it just because I saved you and your shitty ass crush."

Uraraka shakes her head, ignoring his last words, as though refusing to take the bait and change the topic.

"Thank you for what you did Katsuki," she asserts and he can't find a single trace of lies in her voice.

She doesn't seem to expect a reply and for that he's grateful.

"Just…maybe think about showing kindness outside of being in mortal danger?"

Bakugou can't help the chuckle, who knew she had a sense of humour? Perhaps he should pay attention to the extras after all. (Perhaps there is no such thing as extras in life but he'll learn that lesson latter on).

"You…weren't bad either," he grumbles, before he loses the courage to, "The way you stood up to that ass wipe when he brought Iida down was cool."

Uraraka's face goes a nice shade of pink and he isn't sure if it's because of the praise or their classmate being brought up again. Probably both. It only seals his suspicious about the two of them but it's not like he cares about romance anyway.

"Thanks," she responds, shooting him another smile that looks like compressed sunshine, "I'm not like your average useless heroine in a shounen, you know?"

Katsuki snorts, shaking his head as he takes in the jab directed towards his own little quips,

"I guess you aren't."

Uraraka grins brightly and for one short moment – an eternity of its own – Bakugou feels like a normal person, like someone who doesn't have to think about dead classmates and repaying a debt that can't be repaid in the first place.

Something nice bubbles up his chest and he feels lighter, even if it's an illusion that won't last.

The girl stays with him for what feels like hours, telling him simple things like gossip and what they've studied and how Midnight pranked Aizawa…

Katsuki remains silent, safe for the occasional swear and yet it feels good, simple and normal – the kind of conversation two teens should have.

"Kirishima is worried about you, by the way."

His fists curl around the sheets but he doesn't say anything to that and Uraraka takes it as her cue to leave.

The sky's already a soft shade of pink, slowly bleeding into purples and reds as the sun sets.

"Deku, I fucking saved someone," he grumbles under his breath, eyes locked on something far away, a time and a boy long gone,

 _"_ _So you'd better be fucking watching,"_

 **xxx**

Round-face visits him every day, bringing him neatly written notes and spicy food. Somehow, through little jokes here and there and talking about everything and nothing she stops being _"round face"_ and becomes Ochako in his head.

(He doesn't change the nickname in his phone though; he is who he is after all.)

After pushing Hair for brains away, she's the closest he has to a friend, not that he admits it out loud. Not that he even thinks he deserves a friend in the first place but he doesn't want to let her go just yet, not when she takes a way a little portion of the darkness.

 **xxx**

Sometimes Kirishima visits too, under Kaminari's scrutinizing gaze. Fortunately his nose heals perfectly but Bakugou can't help the occasional stab of guilt when he sees the redhead.

This one time Katsuki's focuses on the grey sky outside, the rhythmic sound of the rain.

 _"_ _I'm sorry…"_ the words slip past his lips without his notion, "For breaking your nose and shit."

Kirishima nods, a look of forgiveness over his face. It's nothing pompous but between them it doesn't have to be. There's some unspoken understanding their relationship is to be built upon.

They get closer and even Denki starts to relax when around him, despite the daily insulting contest. Who knew the electric blonde had such a profound vocabulary.

 **xxx**

Iida pays him a visit and even brings cookies out of gratitude,

"Not that it's the same as saving someone's life," he points out, fixing the new pair of glasses on his nose, "But they _are_ pretty good,"

Bakugou snorts, that's the closest he's heard to a joke from the nerd.

"Yeah, not bad," he grunts, taking a bite, even when he hates anything sweet, "And by the way you and Round face should really get together, this is all beginning to look like a damn fucking high school romantic anime,"

He doesn't really care if Iida gets the girl or not but he _does_ laugh his ass off at the scarlet tint of red that the nerd's cheeks become as he stutters vague excuses and goes on a rant about how fellow classmates should focus on education, rather than teenage flings.

(Weeks later Iida has an official speech to make, proclaiming his relationship with Ochako. Uraraka's face is a nice shade of pink and her smile is so vibrant that for one brief, eternal moment all Katsuki can think is:

 _Could I ever have what they do?_

For some reason his train of thoughts leads him to Deku).

 **xxx**

Somewhere in between all the jokes with Kirishima and Denki, sharing notes with Ochako, playing chess with Iida and the few visits of everyone else in class…things change.

They're no longer the extras that surround him during boring classes, neither are they the people he's terrified of hurting the same way he did Deku.

Little by little they become something dangerously close to friends.

In the end of the day, no matter how hard you run away someone's love finally catches up to you; he concludes with equal parts annoyance and amazement.

And though Katsuki wants to deny it, happiness sets a tiny, delicate root in his heart.

 **xxx**

 _(Present)_

Bakugou blinks his eyes open, the monotone grey of the cell coming into view.

It's different this time. There is no lingering pain, no exhaustion, rather the exact opposite. He feels refreshed and awake, everything around him vibrant and saturated. It's as though he's reborn.

"Kacchan…" the nickname sounds softer that he remembers and it tastes like honey on his tongue.

He muses Deku's quirk is probably still active as he feels every little thing a hundred times stronger.

Izuku's eyes meet his, wide and green, full of something fleeting like hope and a desire for answers.

"You did good, nerd," Katsuki grunts after a pause, words leaving his mouth in a calculated, collected manner.

As expected, Deku's cheeks turn a warm tint of pink and he shoots him an awkward smile. So, he still can't accept compliments. And, as a nagging voice insists in his head, he still looks cute while at it.

"Kacchan…all those things you felt," Midoriya bites on his lip, as though struggling with his own emotions, "You…you were so happy. That girl you saved, those friends you made…"

"You can see that!?" Bakugou demands harshly, suddenly feeling exposed.

Could Deku _see_ his memories? Get inside his head? Because if so – his mind goes into override just thinking of the possibilities, calculating the immense strength that would give him. A tiny spark of jealousy ignites in his chest and he hates himself for it but-

"No," Midoriya shakes his head, as though reading his thoughts, "No, I can't see your memories. I can't recognize the faces that you remember or the places or anything really but I can-"

He waves his hands before him to showcase what he means,

"I can _feel_ it. And it's the weirdest thing ever it just…gives me an idea of what happened, through the emotions you experienced."

Bakugou takes a shaky breath, trying to make sense of it all.

"Hell, that's fucked up."

Izuku's eyes dart away, as though he's burned by the words,

"Leave it to me to have a messed up quirk once I finally get one," he chuckles, the sound lifeless and flat.

It cuts right through Katsuki's heart, Deku shouldn't sound like that.

Before he thinks about it he takes Izuku's hands into his own. The villain steps away in shock. He doesn't let go though, even when the shorter man tries to pull away. His skin is clammy and hot, maybe running a fever.

Bakugou doesn't know why, he doesn't even begin to understand it but there is a pull towards the other, one he's felt his entire life. It's as though a loose thread connects them and no matter how far away he goes, Deku is always pulled along with him.

(He'd never admit it but the opposite is also true).

"Kacchan…" the name is barely above a whisper, weighted down by the nostalgia behind it, years' worth of memories all compressed into one word. Then there's something else, something new and different, an unspoken question, a silent proposition.

Izuku frees his right hand and places it over his chest and he doesn't fight it, against his better judgement.

 _"_ _Ah,"_ Deku's lips curve into a small o-shape and shock paints his pale face.

Katsuki has to resist the urge to count the freckles contrasting against milky skin.

"What you feel…" the villain licks his lips, as though struggling to believe it.

Bakugou opens his mouth to say something, offer any explanation but no words come to mind. All there is, is the feeling of warmth in his chest and the desire to –

Deku's lips seal his own.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** What did you think of the chapter? Bakugou's memories? I love adding Uraraka to the mix, she's such a great support character and her friendship with Katsuki really makes sense to me.

And that final scene – did it take you by surprise as much as it did Bakugou xD To be honest I loved writing that line so much!

If you'd like to support my writing, you can do so at my Koffee account: www. ko-fi K3K7J8P8 (without spaces)

Or at my pay pal : fanfictioniwrite gmail. com (without spaces)

Please share your thoughts in the comments!


End file.
